


Speaking Volumes

by Lisdangerous87



Category: Blink-182
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bullying, M/M, Mute - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 18:35:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 38,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1951821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lisdangerous87/pseuds/Lisdangerous87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark makes a new friend who doesn't talk much.</p><p>Ch. 5 is complete!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Speaking Volumes  
> Author: lisdangerous87  
> Rating: PG-13 (language)  
> Pairing: Tom/Mark  
> Disclaimer: Tom and Mark are all their own "human beans". Don't own them. Everything else is mine! Let me know what you think! 
> 
> I want you to all know I HATE the f*gg*t word but thought it was necessary in the context of the conversation. 
> 
> The band doesn't exist.

Speaking Volumes   
Chapter One

 

"Hi."

The skinny boy looked up from his notebook. He blinked slowly, looking next to him and then back at the dark haired boy in front of him. 

He lowered his brown eyes before continuing to doodle a logo for his favorite band on the notebook's cover. 

The standing boy tried again, "Hi. I'm Mark. Can I sit here?" 

The brown eyed boy didn't lift his head, but didn't tell the standing boy no either, so the standing one placed his backpack against the leg of the table and slid out the chair next to the doodling boy. 

Mark sat down and looked around the nearly empty classroom. There was only a short girl with frizzy hair and glasses who was in the front row, seemingly organizing her pencil case. 

His blue eyes fell onto the clock, he was at least fifteen minutes early. He looked to his left where the silent boy was quietly shading in a giant "D". The boy kept his eyes low, shrinking as a few rowdy boys entered the classroom. 

Mark glanced at them, seeing them take no notice to the others in the room as they sat upon the tables, talking amongst themselves.

The blue eyed boy turned back to the dark eyed boy and watched for a moment as the boy began to color in small circles the the next letter, a lowercase "e". 

"So, you like the Descendants?" Mark asked, turning in his chair.

The boy quickly looked up, stopping his coloring before he dropped his eyes again. Mark smiled before pointing at the boy's doodle. "I noticed the way you were extending the letters so that they look elongated. Don't look so surprised."

The boy's brown eyes flew up to meet Mark's blue ones. Mark leaned back and chuckled, "And again with the surprised face!" 

The boy momentarily squinted his brown eyes at the chuckling boy before putting away the pencil and notebook into his backpack. He zipped it up and slid it close to his right leg, away from Mark.

"What's with the glare, dude? I'm just being friendly. What's your name?" Mark asked, leaning onto the table in front of the two boys. The dark eyed boy stayed silent. He only looked over at Mark for a moment before turning his eyes to the two boys that had stood in the front and made their way towards the table the smiling boy was seated at with the same nameless boy. 

Mark noticed the way the boy pulled his arms in tightly and kept his head down, visibly shrinking in his seat. Mark sat up straighter and pulled his maroon baseball cap off then back on. 

The two boys stood before Mark and waited until he looked up at them. Instantly, Mark was on high alert. He could feel the cockiness and superior attitude radiating from the standing boys. Mark looked over to the quiet boy, understanding that they were the reason that the boy seemed slightly frightened and guarded. 

Mark swallowed before he stood, tilting his head slightly as he let an at ease smile fall across his lips. "Hey there boys, anything I can help you with?" 

The two boys, outfitted in matching green and white track jackets, smiled at each other. They looked back at Mark. The taller of the two men, nearly matching Mark's height, jutted his chin out as he introduced himself.

"Hey. Name's Collins, Jimmy Collins. This here is my buddy Sam Knightly. We play Varsity soccer here." He let his brown eyes run over Mark before meeting the green eyes of his blonde friend. He sniffed as if he had to prove a point before he continued talking. 

"What's your name?" Jimmy asked, inspecting Mark as the tall blue eyed boy answered. 

Mark got distracted as he observed the boys' appearances and behaviors. This Jimmy character must have been at least six feet, only a couple inches shorter than Mark himself. He had a short, dark, nearly shaved head and a large diamond stud in his left ear lobe. He was wearing a black shirt with a large white Adidas symbol in the middle, partially hidden by his track jacket, and a pair of dark wash jeans.

Sam was not paying attention at all to Jimmy's words, his light green eyes focused on the silent boy seated next to Mark. Sam's eyebrows flinched downwards as he stared at the boy diagonal from him, anger flickering on his face at the boy refusing to make eye contact.

"So, why don't you come sit up with us and we can get you into tryouts for the team." Jimmy concluded as he motioned for Mark to follow himself and Sam. They stopped walking as Mark burst out laughing. 

Mark covered his mouth, the outburst startling the unnamed boy. "Shit, sorry dude!" Then he raised a hand to the two boys who had since turned around, a dumbfounded look on Jimmy's face and a look of disbelief on Sam's face. 

"I don't do sports. At all. Except skateboarding." Mark explained, glancing over to see surprise and a small glimmer of hope on the quiet boy's face. He let a grin slide on his face for a moment before realizing that the two soccer players were not impressed with his dismissal of them as he sat back down next to the dark eyed boy.

"Your funeral." Sam said, with a glare directed at the silent boy before glancing at Mark and strutted back to his seat on the opposite side of the classroom. 

"You have a problem with them in the past or something?" Mark leaned a little closer to talk to the boy as people began filling in the seats. Homeroom would be starting at any moment. An older teacher had taken her place at the front, she leaned back in her chair and she waited for more students to arrive, pleasantly sipping her tea. 

The boy leaned away from Mark, eyes dilating in alarm at the close proximity of the blue eyed boy. Mark was confused at the fear that had shown on the boy's face. He stood, grabbing his backpack in what looked like an intent to change seats before realizing there were no more empty ones. He slumped back down with disappointment washing over his acne covered face. 

The bell rang and Mark turned to the front, not entirely sure how homeroom was run at this school. The teacher stood, gently placing her black ceramic mug on her desk before opening a notebook. She cleared her throat and fixed her skirt before beginning.

"Hello everyone! My name is Mrs. Bouchard and welcome to the first day of school. This is the first year we are not having home rooms be divided alphabetically and by class in hopes that you all branch out and make some newfound friendships this year. I begin role call exactly thirty seconds after the bell rings. You need to be in here before I call your name, otherwise you have to go to the office for a tardy slip. Unfortunately for the beginning of the alphabet, that means for you that you can't be late. My apologies. Let's begin, though, shall we?"

Mark's eyes wandered around the room as Mrs. Bouchard began calling out kid's names. He wasn't expecting a hand to be raised when she called out, "Thomas DeLonge?" 

He was surprised that he stayed silent, it seemed everyone prior to that had called out a "yes" or a "here" in response. 

Mark waited for his name to be called before he raised his hand silently, noting how the boy next to him shifted in surprise when he didn't call out like his classmates. The next few minutes passed with silence between the two boys.

When the first passing bell rang, Mark stood up and pushed in his chair. He looked over to say something to the boy named Thomas when he noticed he was gone. Looking up to the door, he noticed the dark haired boy quickly exiting the classroom.

Mark quickly grabbed his backpack and slithered through the crowd into the crowded hallway. Thomas was lost to the crowds. "Damn. Alright then..." He trailed off, making his way to the wall of lockers, pulling out his class schedule. He looked down at his schedule. 

He had Geometry first in room 213. He repeated the room number to himself as he walked towards where he thought the stairwell was. Finding it, he climbed the two steps at a time. He looked at his watch, he had three minutes to find the classroom before he would be late. 

He took a deep breath before falling into step with the crowd in the hallway. Mark hoped that he was heading in the right directions the warming bell sounded and he wiped at his forehead. Looking over the doorways he passed, he let a sigh of relief slip out as he noticed the numbers decreasing. 

He passed room 215, the next one should be his classroom. When he saw the numbers 213 inscribed on the doorframe. He gently pushed his way through the sea of students and stumbled into his classroom just as the bell sounded. 

Mark caught himself before he fell to the floor and stood, freezing as twenty four pairs of eyes watched him. A set of familiar brown eyes looked very alarmed, before the mouth that went with it formed a small lopsided smile. 

Mark cleared his throat before apologizing to the teacher. The smart looking math teacher shrugged his shoulders and pointed to a seat along the window side of the classroom. Mark shuffled back to his seat giving an embarrassed grin to Thomas as he passed him. 

Thomas ducked his face and tried to keep the smile off his face while a warm flush creeped up to flood his cheeks. The math teacher began to write his name on the chalkboard. "MR. O'LANDRY" was messily scrawled in all uppercase letters in pale yellow chalk. 

The strawberry blond teacher fixed his thick rimmed glasses before apologizing for his atrocious handwriting. "Luckily, I write numbers much better and type up most of my tests so it shouldn't be too much of a problem."

He paused for the quiet polite chuckling from the class before continuing. "So since it's the first day, we're going to do a little housekeeping, a getting to know each other activity and then I've got some little puzzlers that should be fun."

Mark copied down the homework, covering his new math book and doing a review from last year in the textbook. While Mr. O'Landry went over his policies for handing in homework late and test procedures, Mark let his eyes wander around the room. 

It was strange for him, to not know anyone here. Mark skimmed over his classmates, looking for anyone suitable to become friends with. A guy with a dirty pair of high tops looked promising, as did a girl who had on overalls with a Cure tshirt on underneath. 

Mark then let his eyes fall on the back of Thomas' head. He studied the way the boy stayed hunched over his desk, writing away or doodling again. Mark couldn't see what was so important about what the teachers was saying at the moment.

The blue eyed boy's attention was brought back to the teacher when he clapped his hands twice and raised a stack of papers in the air. "Alright, everyone pick a partner. Preferably someone you don't already know, I will know if you know each other."

Mark waited a moment before looking around the room. High tops and Overalls were already paired up. He looked over at Thomas and noticed that no one was even attempting to go near him, while at the same time, he made no attempt to get up and find a partner either. 

Mark grabbed a pencil and stood up, making his way over to the quiet boy. He stood next to him for a good ten seconds before Thomas looked up to see who was so close to him. 

"Hi! Again." Mark waved as he cheerfully spoke to the other boy. Mark looked to his left when he felt eyes on him. A girl with curly red hair was staring at him, made eye contact then leaned over to whisper to her partner. Mark looked back at Thomas before he saw what happened next. 

"So, want to be my partner?" Mark asked with a hopeful smile. It took Thomas a moment to respond, but he slowly nodded his head. 

"Great." Mark raised his hand, "Mr. O'Landry! We're ready to get started!" 

Mr. O'Landry looked at the two boys seated next to one another, his eyes lingering on the brown eyed boy a tad bit longer before masking his curiosity with happiness. "Fantastic! You seem like a great partner for Tom, full of things to say."

He handed the two their papers and walked away to another pair that was ready to start. 

Mark raised one eyebrow in confusion and looked over at the brown eyed boy that had grown red in the cheeks. "What did he mean by that? You've had him before?"

Thomas nodded as he began to write his own name at the top of his paper and today's date. Mark nodded his head for a moment before asking again, "So, is he a good teacher then? Cool about things?"

Thomas bit his lip and erased part of the date and wrote it again, nodding as he rubbed away the eraser scraps. 

"Cool. Okay so want me to ask the questions first or take turns or you can ask." Mark waited for a response. The boy shrugged his shoulders. Laughter caught Mark's attention and made him turn away from Thomas for a moment. He frowned when he saw nothing funny and turned back around.

Thomas had hunched over further in his seat and was leaning his head into the crook of his arm on his desk, red as a beet. Mark squinted his eyes and looked at Thomas' blank stare, before turning back to the rest of the class. 

Mark turned back, deciding to ignore whatever what going on that he didn't get. "Okay I'll answer the questions about me and you write then it's your turn, okay?"

Thomas nodded and placed his pencil by the first question, ready to write.

"Alrighty so first question's my name: Mark Hoppus. H-o-p-p-u-s. Number two: I'm eighteen and a junior." Mark paused when Thomas looked up suddenly with his eyebrows furrowed, full of confusion. 

"I know, I know. I'm old. I used to live with my dad and he moved around a lot because of the army so I kind of missed a lot of school. I just moved in with my mom and little sister though. Um, yea, sorry. Got sidetracked. What was I on, number three?"

Thomas nodded and got ready to write. Mark read the question out loud before answering it with ease, "Favorite food: easy, burritos!" Mark mirrored Thomas' smile and asked, "Is that yours too?" 

Thomas nodded eagerly, making Mark chuckle as he wrote that down on his paper about the other boy. "Alright, four is favorite color. Don't laugh, okay?" Mark turned a light rosy color. 

Curiosity glimmered in Thomas' eyes, and he waited for Mark to continue with a straight face. Mark leaned in and whispered, "It's pink."

The brown eyed boy smiled but didn't say anything, much to Mark's relief. After he finished writing the four letters, he poised his pencil by number five and raised both eyebrows.

"Okay, okay, I'm going." Mark looked down to read the next questions, missing the lopsided grin that danced over the other boy's lips. "Five is pick three things to bring to a desert island. Oh, toughie... Hmm. Well, the world's largest burrito, toilet paper and... I guess I'd want a friend to talk to..." Mark paused, rubbed his chin and looked at Thomas, who had stopped writing to watch. 

Mark leaned in and spoke quietly with one hand raised vertically near his mouth, funneling his voice towards Thomas, "How do you feel about going to a desert island?" 

Thomas bit his lip, trying to prevent himself from sending Mark the largest grin ever. When he had regained control, he pretended to make himself look angry and placed his pencil next to the number six. 

"Sheesh, you sure are a slave driver! Six is favorite band. It's a tie between Descendants and The Cure." Mark said, quickly going to the next question.

"Number Seven is favorite and least favorite school subject. Well, I liked my poetry class best at my old school and my least favorite would have to be gym class. There should be a law against physical activity at my age." Mark answered, looking over as the giggle escaped Thomas. 

Mark smiled back and looked down to read question eight before Thomas complained. "Eight, favorite holiday. I hate them all except for my birthday. So, I guess my birthday is my favorite holiday, but ugh," he sighed, throwing his head back, "I have to wait until March to celebrate it!" 

Thomas wrote down "March birthday" before raising his eyes to meet Mark's. The talkative boy was watching him closely, making Thomas sweat slightly. He wiped at his forehead and wiped his hand on his jeans. He raised his eyebrows and Mark shook his head.

"Sorry, I spaced out. Nine is about hobbies. Well, I play bass horribly and sing off key for this band in Ridgecrest but I doubt I'm in it anymore since I moved here. I guess that's it. Can trying to fit as many marshmallows into my mouth at once be considered a hobby? I'm always trying to beat my record of fourteen. I can do sixty of the mini ones!" Mark says, pride evident on his face. 

He sent a cheeky grin at Thomas before reading the last question, "Place you want to visit most? I don't know man, I just want to see the world. Japan would be awesome or Australia, no, no, England! I don't know. Just put everywhere outside of California."

Mr. O'Landry gave a five minute warning to finish the getting to know you activity. 

"Crap, dude I'm sorry. I talk too much and used up all the time. Quick give me some stuff about you." Mark waited, pencil raised and ready to write. 

He looked up when he didn't hear a word. "Thomas, dude, did you hear me? Tell me about you. Mr. O'Landry said we have to share about the other person, I'm going to have nothing to say!"

Mark raised one eyebrow nervously as he watched Thomas' entire body language change. The dark eyed boy flushed, his skin began to take on a damp appearance and his shoulders heaved in slow, heavy movements. 

"Thomas? You alright, man? Let me know if you're going to be sick dude, I'll move out of the way." Mark reached out an arm to wave in front of Thomas's face. He jumped when a girl next to him spoke out, popping a bubble with her gum. 

"You actually expect him to answer you? Hah, that's a joke! You haven't realized he hasn't said a word to you at all so far?" The girl pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, uncrossing her legs she leaned forward, one hand underneath her slightly pointed chin. 

Mark looked at Thomas with confusion. Thomas had closed his eyes and seemed to be counting, his lips moving silently. Mark turned back to the girl. "No, I talk a lot. I just figured that I was monopolizing the conversations." He scratched at his head, noticing the teacher moving closer to Thomas.

Mr. O'Landry pulled at his slacks before he squatted next to Thomas, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, making the boy open his eyes wide, full of panic. The girl continued talking. Her voice distracted him from Thomas.

"Thomas stopped talking in the eighth grade when his dad took off. They say he used to have sex with Thomas every night and that's why he stopped talking, he's upset his dad left him and-" 

"Jessica Lynn, go to the office!" Mr. O'Landry cut off the girl, causing the class to jump at his raised voice. 

Mark jumped too, turning in his seat to look at the the angered adult. His face was scrunched up as he pointed to the door.

Jessica began to protest, "But Mr. O'Landry! I didn't do anything!"

Mr. O'Landry shook his head and said through tight lips, "Spreading hurtful rumors about a peer is against school policy. Go to the principal's office now before I have to walk you there myself."

Mark looked back and forth between the adult and the student, horror written across Jessica's face as she collected her things and ran to the door. When Mark remembered Thomas, he looked over to see an empty seat. 

Mr. O'Landry fixed his sweater vest before asking a pair of students up front to stand and share two new facts they learned about their partner. The teacher then leaned over Mark's desk and spoke quietly to him. "Mark, may I see you in the hallway please."

Mark nodded and stood up, following the teacher into the empty hallway. 

"Mark, I feel the need to inform you of some things going on at this school since you're new. Thomas, the boy you went up to in my class today... That's probably the first time he's ever been approached by a peer in a long time. Thomas has trouble making friends, he just never built those social skills as a child. When his father left him, his mom and little sister, he had trouble adjusting. He withdrew. He has not uttered a word since the day his father left at school, and as far as we know at home too." Mr. O'Landry paused and looked around the hallway. 

"I know all this because I'm his advisor, there's a great big file on him since elementary school. I could get in by deep load of shi-" The teacher caught himself before he swore in front of the student, "shifty mud. Um. I wanted you to know because you are the first person to treat him like a normal kid in years."

Mark swallowed as he processed this information. He bit his lip and waited for the teacher to give him some sort of clue as to what he should do. "I'm going to write you a pass. Would you go and check the boy's rooms in this wing and see if he's there? The bell is going to be ringing soon and he's kind of a... target at this school." Mr. O'Landry waited for Mark to nod before going back into the classroom and pulling out a yellow notepad. 

Mark gathered up his things and Thomas' and waited by the teacher's desk before grabbing the pass and leaving the math class. 

As Mark stood in the hall, he looked both ways and guessed at which way to begin his search for the bathrooms. "Okay," he said to himself, shifting his and Thomas' things on his shoulder, "let's try this way."

The boy wandered down the hall in the opposite direction of the stairwell he had climbed up merely forty minutes before. He came upon a bathroom about halfway down the hallway. 

He entered it slowly and looked around. It was an extremely small bathroom, with only one sink and two stalls. Both stalls were open, revealing nothing. He called out the boy's name just in case. 

Nothing but silence echoed back. 

Mark pursed his lips and spun on his heels. He glanced at his watch, he didn't have much longer before students would begin flooding the hallways. The tall boy came to a T in the hallway. At one end of the hallway, to Mark's right, was a set of double doors. To the left was another turn. 

Mark went left and walked through a double doorway and into a cube shaped room filled with lockers on two walls and glass windows on the other two. Diagonal was a double door. "What the fuck. This school is a fucking maze!" 

Mark pushed the doors open too heavily, wincing as they slammed against the wall. A strong sterile smell hit his nose. "Holy shit, found the science wing."

The bell rang, and doors began opening, students filling the halls with chatter. Mark bit at his lip and picked out a nerdy looking redhead to ask for directions. The boy pushed up his glasses and pointed behind him. "End of the hallway is a bathroom. Nobody ever goes back to that one though, it's never clean."

Mark smiled and whispered, "Perfect," as he thanked the boy and pushed his way to the end of the hall. He pushed the heavy wooden door with the the stenciled letters spelling 'BOYS', and looked around. 

Crumpled brown paper towels littered the area near the trash can in the corner, a constant drip leaving the left faucet. There were four stalls, two of which were closed, locked from the inside. 

Mark took off his backpack and Thomas', placing them on the dirty floor. He raised both hands and placed them over the top of the stall door. Lifting himself up, he peered over the top.

He looked down at a broken toilet, plastic garbage bag duct taped over the top of the bowl. Mark dropped back down and went to the next locked stall. 

"Hey Thomas." 

The boy lifted his head and quickly brought it back down, wiping at his face with the backs of his hands. He kept his brown eyes pointing downwards. Mark maneuvered his body so that he could swing an arm over the top and hang freely with the door under his armpit. He asked, "Come out from there. I need help finding my next class. Can you help me?" 

The brown eyed boy got down from his squatting position on the toilet and unlocked the door. Walking out, he picked up his backpack and slid his arms through the straps. Not turning around, Thomas waited at the door. Mark picked up his things and went up behind the taller boy. 

"Hey, let's go. What's the hold up?" Mark raised his eyebrows at the boy's back. He quirked his head when Thomas held out his left hand. Mark realized what he wanted and dug through his bag.

He pulled out his wrinkled schedule and gave it to Thomas. The brown eyes scanned the paper and handed it back, pushing on the bathroom door and leaving the relative quietness of the bathroom. 

Thomas pushed his way through the crowded hallway. People barely saw him. Shoulder after shoulder hit him. Thomas ping-ponged back and forth with Mark right behind him. 

They turned down a hallway that Mark hadn't seen before. He tried to remember what class he had next. Was it psychology or photography? 

The warning bell rung and Mark began to get nervous. Thomas hadn't turned around once since they had left the bathroom. Had he forgotten he was taking Mark to his next class?

Mark pulled off one strap to his backpack and swung it around so he could walk and dig for his schedule at the same time. Photography in room 346A. 

Mark briefly wondered if there was a room 346B before he reached out to get Thomas' attention. He had just barely gotten his fingers to touch Thomas' right shoulder, exhibiting the lightest of pressures when Thomas flung himself around, arms flying up to cover his head as he tucked himself in to protect his stomach. 

Mark immediately released the boy's shoulder and began to apologize. "Shit, hey, it's just me! I was just trying to get your attention. I'm sorry!"

Thomas turned a rosie color, his acne almost blending in with the rest of his skin. He lowered his hands and scratched the top of his head. He took a deep breath, looking around at all the stares before he looked at Mark. 

He sent Mark a small apologetic half smile before he turned and walked five more steps, pointing to a classroom door. Mark stood there for a moment before sliding his hands into his front pockets and awkwardly walking up to him, giving the taller boy a tight goodbye grin and made his way into the classroom. 

The bell rang and Mark slid into the seat closest to the door, looking around for a teacher but seeing none. There was about seven other students sitting around chatting quietly at the wide rectangular tables. Mark looked up when he felt a presence near him. He turned and saw Thomas, standing in front of the open seat next to Mark, both eyebrows raised as he looked back and between the empty chair and Mark.

Mark ignored the questioning expression on Thomas' face and asked his own question, "You have this class too?" A smile crept onto his face as Thomas nodded, copying Mark's expression.

Thomas put his hand on the empty chair and raised his eyebrows again. Mark began to nod, "Absolutely dude, have a seat, it's all yours." 

Thomas smiled and pulled the chair out, sliding into it as a young looking guy walked into the room and headed to the front. He put his briefcase down and greeted the class. 

Mark smiled as Thomas pulled out his notebook and pencil, writing down verbatim what the teacher was saying. The teacher, Mr. Green, began to pass out a list of things they would need before reading from the list. 

Mark leaned over and whispered near Thomas' shoulder, "Don't forget to write down he began passing out the papers on stage right."

Thomas stopped writing, slowly placing his pencil down and turned the color of a raspberry. Mark found amusement in the fact that the color seemed to flush all the way down to the bottom of the other boy's neck. He giggled and sat back in his chair, listening to Mr. Green explain that they would be going on a tour of the photography labs. 

The nine students stood and followed Mr. Green into the first darkroom. It was a small room, with one lightbulb in the center of the ceiling. Mark looked around, interested in the stacks of film canisters and larger tumbler canisters. 

The blue eyed boy couldn't help but notice that the class was mostly crowded on the one wall, noticeable distance between Thomas and himself and the rest of them. Mark frowned at them before looking at Thomas, who's eyes were locked on the teacher. 

The brown eyes followed the teacher's hand movements with great interest, and Mark smiled a little at Thomas' excitement. The teacher then walked back to the darkroom door that they came through and turned to leave the classroom.

He stood in front of a door in the hallway before knocking on it. He listened and opened the door, leading the first five students into a small room with only another door. Mark listened as Mr. Green explained that they had two doors so that no light would leak into the darkroom. Knocking was important to make sure no one was trying to leave or enter at the time you were going to open the main door. 

Mark waited with Thomas and two other boys out in the hall as the teacher brought the first group in. Thomas bit at his lip and kept his eyes on the ground. Mark noticed the way Thomas' shoulder rounded and his breathing sped up slightly.

Mark narrowed his eyes and twisted his head, bending so that Thomas could see him in his line of vision. He smiled up at Thomas and felt better when the boy smiled back. Thomas jumped when the door opened, nearly knocking into him. The teacher apologized and lead the four boys into the dark connecting room. 

Once the hallway door was closed tight, he moved to open the darkroom door and Mark had to blink a few times, adjusting to the dim red light. The teacher began to explain why the red light did not effect the photo paper and the various instruments in the development room.

Thomas stayed close to Mark as he moved around the room looking at the rectangular bins filled with developer chemicals. A spinning circle of water caught his attention and Mark asked what it was. When the teacher responded that it was in fact water, he let his hands slip into it, enjoying the way the water ran over his fingers.

Thomas smacked at his arm, making the shorter boy retract his hand and shoot the other boy a hurt look. Mark received one raised eyebrow and frowned at the reaction. He mouthed a silent "Sorry!" and tuned back into the conversation between Mr. Green and the students. 

The rest of second period went quickly, and Mark found himself wondering if he had any other classes with Thomas. When the class returned to the classroom, the bell rang.

Mark grabbed his bag and pulled out his schedule. "Any chance you can lead me to the gym? Or point me in the direction of it? I've got that next." 

Thomas ignored Mark's words and quickly shoved his things into his backpack, throwing it over one shoulder and headed to the door.

"Hey! Thomas!" Mark shouted, surprised that, who he was beginning to consider as a friend, would ignore him. Mark gave a sad frown as he grabbed his things and ran out the door, hoping to catch up to Thomas.

"Thomas, hey! You didn't answer me! I need help man, I don't have a map!" Mark reached his hand out to grab onto Thomas, but stopped when he recalled what had happened previously. Mark pushed his way through the students so that he was walking at a hurried pace next to Thomas.

"Dude, I got littler legs than you. Slow the fuck down." Mark turned sideways to get past a girl with a stack of books. When he looked back at Thomas, the mischievous smile that was playing on the boy's lips made him squint his eyes and ask what was going on.

"Don't tell me you have gym next, too!" He exclaimed as the boys walked through a set of double doors and into a glass hallway that went over the school's driveway. The smile stayed on Thomas's face. "Holy shit. This is way too good to be true. First three periods together will make the day fly by!"

Thomas looked over at Mark as his smile got even bigger, his nose crinkling as he nodded his head in agreement. "Fucking awesome." Mark said.

The smile dropped from Mark's face as he questioned, "We don't have to change today, right? I didn't bring any gym clothes." 

Thomas shook his head and pointed to the group of students sitting on the bleaches as the gym teacher shifted back and forth on his feet, whistle around his neck and clipboard in hand. The warning bell rang as Mark and Thomas sat down on the bottom row of benches. 

Two girls, who were already sitting on the bench about two feet away from Tom, looked over. They looked back at each other before making a disgusted face and stood up to move. 

Mark noticed how the corners of Thomas' mouth twitched downwards, trying his best to not look effected by the girls' actions. Mark glared at the two girls, getting up and placing himself between them and Thomas.

Brown eyes followed Mark's movements with curiosity. Thomas ducked his face when he saw what Mark was doing. Mark turned his body so his back was towards the girls. "Some people can be SO rude." He remarked, putting emphasis on the second to last word.

The corners of those brown eyes crinkled while Thomas sent an appreciative grin to the other boy. The bell rung as Mark shrugged off the thank you from Thomas. 

Both boys' attention was drawn to the teacher as he blew the very shrill whistle. Thomas jumped at the unexpected noise, resulting in a ridiculous uproar from his classmates, minus Mark, who sent the group of students a large frown. 

The teacher ignored the class' laughter and blew his whistle again, making Thomas flinch and plug his ears. Mark frowned at the teacher as he saw the tiniest notion of a smirk fly on and off his face. The teacher began to yell about his rules and the way he ran his class, wanting to be called Coach Smith.

Gym went by slowly, they fooled around with basketballs for most of the period. Thomas avoided the ball like the plague while Mark tried to at least seem like he knew what the fuck he was doing. Mark and Thomas ended up at a basketball hoop by themselves, playing a very close game of H-O-R-S-E. 

Both boys had all the letters but the E left when Jimmy and his buddy, Sam came strolling over to them. Two other gym classes were held at the same time, and they were in them. "Hey there Ladies." Jimmy began, a cocky smirk on his face once again.

Mark, who had decided to kill the two boys with kindness, sweetly replied, "Why hello there gentlemen. What brings you to these parts? Miss our beautiful faces already?"

Jimmy wasn't amused with Mark's attitude. He scoffed, "Hardly." before roughly pushing the basketball he had picked up into Mark's chest. 

"Hey now, no need to get physical." Mark said, rubbing his chest where the ball had hit him and rolled away. Mark barely registered that Sam had gone out of sight when he was pushed up against the wall of the gymnasium.

Granted, it was padded, but his front hurt from where Jimmy's strong arms pushed into his upper chest. "Actually, there is. It is my duty as Captain of the soccer team to weed out the weak and help the strong and worthy at this school." 

Jimmy got close to Mark's face as he spoke his next set of threatening words. "You sealed your fate when you aligned yourself with that little faggot bitch, DeLonge. Now you got to deal with the consequences."

Mark's blood boiled at the derogatory names being hurled at his new found friend. His mouth shook with uncontrolled motions as he frowned, summoning all his inner strength, his frustration with his dad, his anger at former bullies at his old school and the unfairness of Thomas' situation in life.

Jimmy fell to the floor as Mark pushed him away. Jimmy swore at the blue eyed boy, getting ready to swing at him when he was stopped by a long tanned arm. Coach Smith pulled Jimmy roughly away, mumbling about detentions and starting the new soccer season off right.

Mark took deep breaths as he looked around at the crowd he had drawn. His heart began to pick up at the nonexistent warm brown eyes he had been thinking about previously.

He bit at his lip as he pushed through the ring of people, getting more worried over the fact that he couldn't see Jimmy's minion, Sam.

Mark scanned the gym, hoping to quickly spot the two. When neither were able to be seen, Mark began to search for some sort of sign. 

A basketball hit a door near him and rolled away. "Good enough for me!" He exclaimed as he read the words on the door. 'BOYS LOCKER ROOM'

Mark pushed the door and saw a set of stairs leading up to a second level. Mark hopped up them two at a time and pulled open the door at the top, presumably leading him to the changing room.

"Get the fuck off him!" Mark shouted, seeing red at the sight before him. 

As soon as he had opened the door, Mark's nervous eyes fell upon Sam looming over Thomas. Sam was on his knees, fists pummeling into any and all surfaces on the boy curled up on his side, arms up in front of his face trying to protect himself, but not fighting back.

Mark lunged forwards, throwing Sam off of the injured boy. He placed himself in between the bully and Thomas, who was shaking on the tiled floor right behind Mark's heels. Mark's shoulders were heaving as the anger rolled through him, completely ready to take on this stranger for a boy he only met two and a half hours ago.

Sam saw the look in Mark's eyes, wiped at his upper lip and blew air out of his nose, as if he were some territorial wild animal. He turned and exited the locker room with his head held high.

Mark waited for the door to completely shut before he turned and gave his attention to the boy he still lay near his feet.

He bent down on one knee and slowly reached a hand out to touch Thomas' elbow, knowing the boy would probably jump and be fearful of him. What he didn't expect was for Thomas to let out a deep gasp and push away his hands, eyes shut tightly, blood trickling down from a split and swollen lip. 

"Hey! Dude! Thomas! It's me." Mark tried to reason, but quickly saw that it was not computing for the beaten boy. Somehow that ruffled his feathers and Mark raised his voice slightly, frustrated with what he saw before him. 

"Hey! I'm not the fucking one that just beat the shit out of you! I'm trying to help, I just want to be your friend!"

Thomas opened his eyes, fear shining brightly from within him as he looked at Mark, who had now backed away, staying low on his knees. When Thomas placed everything together, that Mark was not in fact the same person who had hurt him, the fear was instantly gone and replaced with it was embarrassment and shame.

"Can I come near you now?" Mark carefully asked, the quietness of his voice radiating in the large changing room. He waited until Thomas nodded and tried to sit up. Mark stood and held out a hand to pull Thomas to his feet, not without noticing the tight pained expression that slipped onto the boy's face as he moved.

"Where are the sinks? We should probably wash your face off. You've got quite a bit of blood there." Mark asked, taking Thomas's elbow in his hands as he lead the brown eyed boy in the direction that the boy had nodded towards.

Mark leaned his back against the sinks as Thomas braced himself against the white porcelain, cupping the water in his hands and rinsing the cut on his lip.

Mark walked to the paper towel dispenser and ripped off a wad of paper towels, scrunching them up as he held them out to Thomas. The silent boy took them and sent a thankful glance at Mark and dabbed at his face and chin. 

He tossed the paper towel at the garbage and made a strained expression. He slowly lifted his plain black tshirt up, exposing his pale skin that was marred with the redness of Sam's punches and spattered with what looked like healing bruises as well.

Mark turned and frowned at the sight in the mirror and titled his head, asking with earnest eyes, "Did you want me to help you to the nurse?" 

Thomas swallowed and shook his head, intent on sticking it out and braving it through the day with out any ice.

The bell rang, signaling the end of third period. Mark swallowed, unsure of what to do. "Um, well, I have English I think, next. Um, but if you want I'll skip with you. I know I have lunch fifth period. That's the only class I memorized. When do you have lunch?"

Thomas touched his lip before holding up five fingers, flinching when he smiled at Mark. He motioned for Mark to follow him. Mark stood behind Thomas as he slowly pulled upon the locker room door and began his decent back to the gymnasium.

Thomas looked around the empty gym before scurrying across the floor to the bleachers, scooping up his bag along with Mark's and running back to where Mark stood. He nodded towards the door and Mark followed, back through the glass hallway bridge and down a set of stairs.

When they got to the first floor, they were some place Mark hadn't been before. The warning bell rang and Thomas pushed his way through a set of double doors that lead to the cafeteria. 

Thomas paused in the middle of the walkway, scanning the room for something before making his way over to a round table. The cafeteria was huge, sectioned off into quadrants. Thomas had picked a table near the edge of the quadrant closest to the right of the doors. 

The boys sat down at the table. Thomas placed his backpack on the speckled laminate and leaned his head on it. Mark pulled his paper punchbag out of his backpack and opened it up, pulling the entire contents onto the table. The bell for fourth period could barely be heard over the excited conversations of the first day of school.

Thomas watched from his sideways perch, eyes big and observant as Mark pulled out his peanut butter and banana sandwich, carrot sticks, potato chips, and two Oreo cookies. He dug into his bag for his wallet, pulling it back out and counting out the coins for chocolate milk from the á la carte line.

Mark held the three dimes and nickel in his left hand, stood and looked over at Thomas. He was still laying on his backpack. "Hey, don't you have a lunch?" He asked, sitting back down.

Thomas shook his head. Mark furrowed his eyebrows, "Did you bring one to school?"

Mark chuckled when he saw the brown eyed boy rolling his eyes before nodding. He sent the shorter one a bored look before looking at the door. "Oh. Is it in your locker?" Mark questioned and received a nod. 

"Do you have any money for a snack?" Mark flipped the coins over in his hand as he watched Thomas shake his head, eyes lowering. Mark pulled back out his wallet and stood up, motioning for Thomas to follow him.

The boy frantically shook his head, waving off the concerned look on Mark's face.

"Look, I'm starving but I'm not about to stuff my face in front of you while you just sit and watch! You can borrow some money to hold yourself over until we can grab your lunch." Mark waited, glancing up to see where in the cafeteria he had to go.

Thomas again tried to shrug off the offer Mark was making him, but the blue eyed boy was insistent. "Fine you fucker, I'm going to spend my entire savings buying one of everything then."

Mark began to walk towards what looked like the á la carte line, smiling when he heard Thomas scrambling to climb over the oversized plastic maroon chairs to catch up to him.


	2. Chapter 2

Speaking Volumes   
Chapter Two

"So pick out what you like. I got twenty bucks to my name, and it's telling me it wants to be burrrrrrrned!" Mark spoke to the quiet boy, jumping on the balls of his feet as he waited at the end of a rather long snack line.

Thomas ran his tongue over his bottom lip. His jaw moved slowly as his eyes scanned the brightly colored packages. His eyebrows raised as another student got into line, bumping into him. 

Mark took a step forward as the line moved up. He turned slightly when Thomas followed suit, brushing against his arm. He glanced up at the other boy's eyes, pressing his lips together in a straight line.

"You alright, Thomas?" Mark asked, noticing the boy flinch as he got pushed in the back again. Mark quickly looked behind the slightly taller boy and lifted a hand up, placing it gently onto his shoulder. 

"Here." Mark stated, pulling gently on the other boy's shoulder so that Thomas moved forwards, switching spots with himself. 

Thomas glanced up at Mark, his mouth small and tight. He hid his eyes by looking at the floor. "Hey. Dude. It's alright. We're up, what do you want to get?" Trying to change the subject, Mark held up two bags of different flavored chips. 

Thomas looked up at what Mark was holding. He shook his head, not wanting either. One shaking hand raised and up and grabbed a bag of Doritos and brought it back down. "What else do you want?" Mark took the nacho flavored chips and looked back at the stacks of snacks.

Thomas shook his head. "We have a whole forty-five minutes before we can get your lunch. You're going to need more than just a bag of fucking chips." Mark frowned at the brown eyed boy. 

The blue eyed boy grabbed for a clear plastic bag with a grilled cheese in it and two containers of french fries. Mark placed all his items on the counter and pulled out his money, holding it out for the cashier. 

Mark turned, handing Thomas his Doritos, grilled cheese and fries. The two boys behind Mark let out a laugh and a snide remark, something about Thomas not being able to afford his own lunch, too poor even for the reduced lunch price.

Mark clenched his jaw, trying to ignore them and grabbed his change from the cashier. Thomas quickly turned and made his way back to their table, sighing in relief as they took their seats. 

Mark asked Thomas where the ketchup was located and stood up to locate it when Thomas nodded in the direction behind him. When Mark returned only a minute later, Thomas' entire grilled cheese was gone and a small, sad frown was on his face.

"Dude what the fuck happened to your grilled cheese." Mark inquired, sitting down across from him.

Thomas wouldn't meet Mark's eyes. 

"Thomas. Where did it go, you couldn't have possibly eaten it!" Mark hit the table as he spoke, causing Thomas to jump slightly, banging his chest on the table. He sucked in a sharp breath, closing his eyes tightly. 

Mark breathed harshly out of his mouth. "Dude, let me take you to the nurse." 

Thomas shook his head, glancing over at a table behind Mark. Mark turned his head and peered over at an overly buff boy chomping down on a grilled cheese sandwich. Mark frowned and stood up, turning quickly when he felt a hand wrap around his forearm.

Thomas was toppled over the table, eyes wide with fear and worry. "Stop. I'm going to go buy you another one." Mark said reassuringly. Mark began to walk away when he turned, "If you let anyone touch my fucking fries, I will have to kill you."

Thomas dropped his head as a small smile appeared on his face, turning back around in his seat as Mark skipped back to the a la carté line. Thomas reached out, dipping his french fry into the ketchup before munching slowly on it.

He closed his eyes, savoring the crunchiness and the tang of ketchup in his mouth. Thomas reached out blindly, grabbing another fry, shoving it into his mouth sans ketchup. 

When he opened his deep brown eyes, Mark was sitting in front of him again, a grilled cheese sandwich as well as a large M&M cookie wrapped in cling wrap. 

The two munched quietly on their lunches, Mark making strange noises and Thomas smiling and giggling his way through fourth period. When the bell rang, both boys looked up, completely surprised how quickly the time had passed.

"Want to go get your lunch?" 

Thomas looked up when he heard Mark's question. Mark began to get impatient and turned his head, clasping both hands to one side of his chin. 

"Please oh please, won't you show me your locker? Then I can wait by it while I flirt with your pretty face!" Mark batted his eyelashes at the taller boy, holding back his laughter as Thomas' face turned five shades redder.

His mouth floundered around, bobbing open and closed as the boy tried to process what Mark told him. Mark finally let the giggles slip out of him as he stood to throw his trash away in the circular garbage bin near the doorway.

Thomas stuffed the last bite of his cookie into his mouth and tossed his things away. He sniffed and made his way to Mark, carrying on past him and into the hallway. Mark and Thomas made their way down the short hallway, turning and coming to an intersection that was jam packed with student bodies.

Thomas tried to cut through the moving sea, but was pushed back on each attempt. "Hey," Mark began, "let me go first so you're not being hurt further."

Thomas raised one curious eye, watching closely as Mark switched spots with him. The blue eyed boy turned to ask, "Which way should I go?" 

Thomas pointed to the left and let his mouth drop open, eyes quickly falling to the hand that wrapped around his wrist. 

Mark pulled Thomas against the flow of students, bending his arm behind his back so that he was able to shield the other boy's bruised body as much as possible. Mark stood tall with his chin pushed out as he easily made his way down the hall. 

A mere thirty seconds after he had grabbed for Thomas' body, Mark felt a tug on his left hand. Mark made his way to the left where Thomas had nodded towards. Thomas began to twist the dial, clicking away the numbers to open his locker.

The door to his locker opened when Thomas pushed his right shoulder into the left side of the metal door. Mark leaned against the locker next to the open door. He glanced into the nearly empty locker and saw drawings taped on nearly every possible metal surface. 

"Did you draw all of these?" Mark asked, turning so he could get a closer look. Thomas turned red as he nodded, pulling out a brown paper bag, curling the top of it over a few times. 

Thomas straightened up and looked at Mark quickly and then down to his scuffed shoes. Mark gave him half a smile and looked up to the hallway ceiling as the warning bell sounded. The flow of traffic picked up the pace.

Mark cracked his neck and pushed away from the lockers. "Ready? Let's head back for the cafe." 

Thomas nodded and pulled his lunch in close to his chest. He jumped into the edge of traffic and drifted along the hallway until it was time to turn and make his way back towards the cafeteria. Mark hopped into the crowds, a couple of steps behind Thomas.

Thomas began to walk quickly, pulling his lunch further in to his chest as he passed the library and music room. Mark had to weave in and out of the last few students running to make it to fifth period on time. 

As the two boys walked in the cafeteria, Mark looked around. Their table was still empty so Mark climbed over chairs to it. Thomas chuckled and pushed five plastic chairs out of the way until he arrived at the table.

Thomas pulled out his lunch and began to eat, occasionally smiling and nodding as Mark rambled on about something musical. 

Thomas jumped when the bell signaling the end of fifth period rang.

"Wow. That flew by very quickly! I have US history, chem then psych. You don't by chance have any of them, do you?" Mark asked, standing up and swinging his backpack onto his back. 

Thomas wiped his mouth and shook his head. Mark frowned before turning towards the door. He pulled out his schedule and inquired where room 207 was. Thomas waved his hand to the stairwell they came down before fourth period. 

"Thanks, dude. I'd be totally lost without you today!" Mark said, patting Thomas on the back. Thomas slipped Mark a smile and then walked to a T in the hallway and turned left. A couple moments and a set of stairs later, Mark was staring at Thomas outside of room 207. 

Thomas rubbed the back of his neck before giving Mark a short wave and turned to head down the hall. "Hey, wait Thomas!" Mark called out. Thomas turned but kept walking. The warning bell rang and Thomas continued on his way walking backwards. 

"Dude any chance you can meet me here after to find seventh period?" Mark swallowed deeply and raised his eyebrows, hope tingling in his fingertips.

Thomas smiled and gave a curt nod, turning and continuing on down the hall. Mark stared, a small smile on his face, as he watched Thomas' back turn the corner. The bell rang and Mark was still standing in the hallway. 

A teacher came to close the door, waking Mark from his stupor. He quickly hopped into the classroom as the teacher tried to shut the door. She looked at him with disdain, narrowing her eyes as she said, "Not a good way to start out the year, being late to class, Mr...." She paused, waiting for Mark to fill in his last name.

Mark mumbled, "Hoppus," before finding an open seat near the front, a blush creeping up on his cheeks. Mark spent most of the period watching the clock, counting down the minutes until he could get out of class. 

He was looking forward to seeing his new friend. His knee bounced up and down as the teacher, Mrs. Moreau, droned on about where in history they would be traveling this semester.

The bell rang and Mark shot out of his seat, opening the door as quick as possible, wincing as the door banged loudly against the wall. Mark turned to see Mrs. Moreau glaring once again at him. "Whoops!" 

Mark looked around as people began to filter into the history hallway. The blue eyed boy leaned against the painted white cinder block walls and played with his backpack straps. He began to roll up the lengthening strap and let it go, watching as it unraveled. 

Both scuffed, well loved, and shiny, first day of school shoes passed him. Mark raised one foot and placed it next to his left knee on the wall. He looked to the right, trying to make out the short brown hair on Thomas.

A tap on his shoulder from the left made him turn quickly. Thomas was standing there, a laid back smile on his face as he looked at Mark. He waved at him and raised his eyebrows. 

"I got chemistry. It's just a guess but I think it's in the science wing." Mark grinned, pointing to the left where Thomas had come from. The silent boy nodded and began to walk next to Mark, matching his long strides with Mark's shorter ones. 

A few short moments later, the smell of vinegar and latex hit Mark's nose. Thomas snapped his fingers and looked at Mark expectantly. "Oh, um room 221." Mark responded, glancing at his schedule to double check.

Thomas bit back a smile as he turned left heading towards the bathroom they had been in previously. Before they went that far though Thomas stopped and pointed to a lab classroom. Mark peeked in and saw that only a couple students were already inside. 

"So, do you take the bus or something to school?" Mark asked, struggling for something to talk about so the other boy wouldn't depart too quickly for his own class. 

Thomas nodded, looking around the hallway. A familiar voice crept over the sounds of chattering friends and made Thomas freeze. Sam walked towards Thomas and Mark with an intimidating purpose and brushed behind Mark, who was closer to the door. 

"Relax dude," Mark said, being interrupted by the warning bell. "At least you don't have to deal with him, he's in my class. I guess I'll catch you later? I have psych after but it's in the same class as my history one was." 

Thomas frowned and shook his head. Mark tilted his head in confusion and watched as Thomas walked around his body and into the classroom. Mark raised his eyebrows and walked into the class. "But, you said before you didn't have chem!"

Thomas wasn't far from the door, picking up his chem book before finding an empty seat. He looked to Mark, eyes wide and eager for Mark to get to the spot next to him. Out of the corner of his eyes Mark saw blonde hair making its way to Thomas.

Mark threw his bag at the black lab table before Sam could get his things there. Sam got right in Mark's face, smugness and anger evident on him. Mark spat, "Over my dead body you're going to be his lab partner. Back the fuck off."

Sam squinted at Mark. The teacher walked up to the two standing boys. "Is there a problem here boys? I could always assign seats myself if there is."

Mark shook his head, moving around Sam and sat next to Thomas, who had his head buried beneath his crossed arms and on top of his backpack. "Nope, no problem sir." 

The teacher looked at both boys and moved away, making sure that each student had received a chemistry book. Sam walked in front of Mark and Thomas' lab table and bent over, sneering near Thomas' head, "Your ass is mine after school."

Thomas did not raise his head at the boy's words. The only reaction was his fingers digging deeper into the cloth fabric on his backpack. The teacher, who had introduced himself simply as "Skip", called the attention of everyone, going over lab procedures and OSHA rules.

As the teacher turned his back to show how to use the eyewash station, Mark leaned in close to Thomas. "Hey." He taps him on the shoulder. Thomas jerks and one brown eye pops up over his still folded arms. 

"I can meet you at your locker after eighth period. If you want I can give you a ride home. Plus side of having my parents divorced, is they are always trying to one up each other. Dad gave me his old car when I left him. It's not perfect, but she runs pretty well." Mark suggested, a friendly smile on his face.

Thomas blinked a couple of times and sat up in his seat. He bit his lip before nodding, a relieved look settling over him.

"Great." Mark said, leaning back, holding on to the bottom of his stool.

Skip passed out a blue sheet of paper, explaining that they needed their parents' signature on some paperwork since sometimes they would be experimenting with semi-dangerous materials if mixed in the wrong combination.

Mark looked down at the small print. He signed his name and raised his hand. "I'm eighteen, it says I don't need my parents to sign." Skip nodded and collected his form and Thomas stuffed his into his agenda planner. 

Mark leaned towards Thomas and joked, "It's probably better this way anyhow, less of a chance for me to lose it."

Mark returned Thomas' smile and turned to listen to the teacher again. He noticed Thomas was writing something down fervently. Mark curiously tilted his head to peer at the silent boy's notebook. 

The words that jumped out to him were nothing to do with Chemistry. Mark leaned a little too far and ended up tipping his stool, falling into Thomas. Mark caught himself on the boy's skinny arm, not falling completely to the ground but making enough of a commotion that Skip stopped talking and checked on what was happening before continuing on his lecture of classroom safety.

Mark blushed and apologized to Thomas, grabbing his stool and putting it right side up. Thomas continued his writing and Mark tried his best not to fall again. When the end of seventh period came, Mark stood, pushing his stool in under the table and turned to Thomas.

Thomas was shoving his things into his backpack, trying to zip it as quickly as possible. Mark waited for Thomas to be ready before the two left the science lab. The older boy cleared his throat and walked next to the silent one. "What are you always writing? I thought it was notes on what ever the teacher was saying but I saw something about 'staying up all night to watch the stars.' You write poetry or something?"

Thomas reacted strangely to Mark's words. His bottom lip wavered and his eyes shot up, he picked up his pace and kept walking straight on down the hall into the glass cube Mark had walked through earlier that day, not saying good bye or anything to the other boy. 

Mark stood at the cross section in the hallway for a moment, staring at the back of Thomas' dark head. He twisted his mouth to bite at the inside of his right cheek and turned to walk to his class by himself.

Eighth period went by slowly, which was unfortunate because Mark so badly wanted to know about the inner workings of the mind, but he was stuck on Thomas' reactions to his words. Had he said something wrong or insulting? 

Mark hadn't thought so, he was generally curious about what Thomas was doing. He didn't know a whole lot about the brown eyed boy, maybe with time he would understand him better. 

The problem with this, though, was Mark was not the most patient person in the world. He liked his impulsivity and random spurts of energy. He worried his way through psychology, his hand planted firmly under his chin and didn't even notice the final bell had rung until his classmates were standing up to exit.

Mark quickly gathered up his things, hastily scribbling down his homework and raced for the door. Mark got caught in the slow stream of people making their way down the hallway and bit at his lip trying to make it to Thomas' locker. He went down a staircase and looked both ways. 

Neither end of the hallway looked familiar. 

"Shit." He swore to himself. 

He turned right and began to walk down an emptying hall. He frowned and looked out a window. He recognized the courtyard. He had seen it from the second floor window he had glanced out of on his way to US History earlier.

"Fuck, wrong way!" Mark spun on his heels, knocking into a small girl with mousey brown hair and near to tears. He bent down to help her pick up her now scattered notebook and ran down the hall, shouting his apologies. 

He skidded to a stop at the end of the hall and looked to his left, sighing in relief when he saw Thomas there, squatting against his locker looking in the opposite direction. He jogged up to the boy and placed his hands on his knees as he tried to regain his breath. 

"Sorry, Thomas," he gasped, "got, lost!" Mark squinted his eyes to look at the boy.

"What the fuck, you're bleeding again?!" Mark tried taking a deep breath.

Thomas looked down and wiped at his split bottom lip. 

"Hey. Come on. You want me to drive you home or can you chill for a bit?" Mark asked.

Thomas looked over at him, watching him for a moment before shrugging his shoulders. Mark chuckled before rephrasing his question. "Do you need to get home right away? I got to remember to just ask one single question at a time with you."

Thomas shook his head and stood up. "Cool." Mark responded and began walking one way before stopping to ask, "How the fuck do we get to the parking lot? I'm so lost here. My last high school had only 400 kids total in it. My mom said something about there being nearly 2,200 at this one. That's fucking ridiculous. People need some birth control around here."

Thomas chuckled and pointed down a hall. "Oh hey, I've been here before! We walked by here earlier... Although I feel like I keep saying that. I'm not so sure anymore." Mark pondered aloud.

Mark shielded his eyes as the two left the building and walked out into the sunshine. "I'm so glad today is Thursday. Who ever thought to start a school year out on a Thursday was a genius."

Thomas gripped his backpack and looked over at Mark, his eyes flittering over to the group of students they were headed towards. Sam and Jimmy were there.

Mark looked at the sky as a flock of birds flew over. Thomas pulled at his short sleeve, shaking his head when Mark peered over at him curiously. Thomas pulled at him, trying to steer him away from the group that had yet to notice them.

Mark looks in the direction opposite of Thomas, seeing his eyes are big and full of alarm. "Dude, my car is the RX-7 on the other side of them. If you want, wait here. I'll hop into my car and come grab you."

Thomas looked past Mark, shaking his head and pulling his bottom lip into his mouth. 

"Well then hold your head up and let's go. We just got to make it to my car. I got power locks at least. You ready?" Mark asked, pausing and looking over at the small crowd that had now noticed them.

Thomas shook his head, taking deep, slow breaths. 

Mark tried the whole patience thing before he threw his arm over Thomas' shoulder and pulled him into the road and off the sidewalk, headed straight towards the group. Thomas struggled against Mark's grasp, giving up when he realized he was far too close to the group. 

"They're not going to do shit to you. Look, Coach Smith is watching and they know it." Mark said quietly to Thomas, letting his arm fall off the other boy's shoulders. The blue eyed boy dug into his pocket and pulled out his keys.

Thankfully Mark hadn't backed in, so Thomas would be getting in on the side opposite of the group. As they got closer to Mark's car the group of teens stood up, following the boys with daggered eyes. 

Mark unlocked his car and got in, watching as Thomas did the same. The silent boy was shaking as he tried to buckle his seatbelt. He jumped when Mark locked the doors, making the older boy chuckle.

He put the car in reverse and backed out of his parking spot. As he shifted into first gear, he couldn't help but send a sarcastically friendly wave to Jimmy. Thomas tried to calm himself as they drove out of the parking lot. His grip lessened on the seatbelt that went across his chest. 

Mark took a left out of the parking lot and drove down the road. He lowered his music so he could talk with Thomas. "So where to?"

Thomas shrugged his shoulders and looked out the passenger side door. 

"Hungry?" Mark tried again.

Thomas shook his head and looked with big brown eyes right into Mark's own blue ones. Mark got caught up in his stare and turned back to look at the road, slamming on the breaks. 

"Fuck! That stop sign came out of nowhere!" Mark wiped at his brow as he shifted back into first and continued driving. 

He turned a couple more times in random directions before he ended up on what looked like a main street with lots of shops. Mark pulled into a parking spot and dug around in his center console for some coins.

Thomas tossed his backpack into the back bucket seats of the sports car. He stepped out and walked over to Mark as the older boy fed the parking meter. 

Mark then looked around and signaled Thomas to follow him with a wave of his hand. The pair walked silently down the sidewalk, side by side. Mark looked over to his left, noticing how Thomas walked with his head down. 

"So, where to? Where do you feel like going? What's good around here?" Mark asked excitedly. 

Thomas looked at Mark with raised eyebrows before rolling his eyes and shaking his head, a small smile dancing on his lips. 

"Sorry. One thing at a time. Where to?" Mark rubbed at the back of his neck as he peered over at the younger, but taller boy. The boy simply shrugged.

"You don't go out much, do you?" Mark asked as they turned at a corner.

Thomas shook his head, kicking a small rock with his worn shoe. Thomas fell off the sidewalk and stumbled into the street. He quickly hopped back onto the sidewalk and shoved his balled hands into his pockets.

Mark looked up to the wooden sign that was hanging over his head. It rocked back and forth, creaking loudly with each movement. "Let's get ice cream."

Thomas squinted one brown eye at the other boy and gave a quick nod. Mark smiled and turned to walk into the small shop. As he stepped over the threshold, he looked over his shoulder and chuckled as Thomas scuttled, hands still in his pocket into the ice cream shop, running into Mark.

Thomas rubbed his lips up and down, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth, wrinkles covering his forehead. "Chill dude. What do you want?"

Blue and brown eyes gazed up at the fifty-two flavors written in brightly colored chalk. "I'm getting cookies and cream. Um, what do you want?" Mark frowned before gazing up at the chalkboard.

"Is it in the first column?" Mark asked.

Thomas shook his head and raised three fingers. "Okay," Mark said looking back to the board, "is the flavor in blue?" Mark finished, looking back at Thomas.

Thomas shook his head. "Pink?" Mark questioned.

Thomas smiled. There were only two flavors in pink, chocolate and mint chocolate chip. "You don't seem like a plain chocolate kind of guy. Do you want mint chocolate chip?"

Again, Thomas smiled. Mark walked to the counter and placed their orders with a young brunette girl popping bubble gum. Mark handed her the money and turned with a surprised look at Thomas when he felt a harsh tug on his sleeve. 

"No, shut up. I'm buying." Mark snorted and turned back to the girl to collect his change. Mark laughed to himself and muttered, "Ha, I just told you to shut up. Like you're such a loud friend."

Thomas quirked his head at the last word in Mark's sentence. "I've been hanging with you all day, dude. We're friends, right?" Mark confirmed. 

Thomas nodded slowly, moving just as slow to retrieve his ice cream cone from Mark's outstretched hand.

"Let's go. It's nice out. We can eat outside." Mark said in between licks of chocolate and cream filled cookies. 

Outside the entrance was a stone bench. Mark hopped up on it to eat his ice cream cone. Thomas quietly licked at the cold green treat and leaned against the wall of the shop.

"When do you need to be home?" Mark slurped up a running dribble of ice cream from the length of the wafer cone. 

Thomas shrugged his shoulders and continued to lap at the ice cream. Mark nodded and the two silently ate their treats.

They took their time, enjoying the moment. When they had finished, they wandered into stores together, not buying anything but simply passing the time. 

The sun began to set and Mark suggested heading back to his car. Thomas followed, sliding into the passenger seat and clicking his seatbelt into place.

Thomas directed Mark through the streets of Poway. He bolted upright when they turned onto his road, alarm coursing through him as he pointed to the brown house with three police cars, lights flashing and reflecting through the night.

"Oh shit." Mark whispered as he pulled into Thomas' driveway. 

Thomas, stricken with panic fumbled with his seatbelt and then his door handle. He stumbled across his lawn, meeting what looked like a worried mother, brown hair flying about as she flung herself around Thomas.

"Oh Thomas," she wailed, "I thought something had happened to you, my baby!"

Mark stepped out of the car, catching what she had said.

"Well, this should be fun to explain." He mumbled as four police officers, followed a boy and girl, came out of the front door.


	3. Chapter 3

Speaking Volumes   
Chapter Three

Mark walked very slowly up to the small crowd of people that were standing outside of the brown ranch home. The police officers split up, two going with Thomas and his mother back inside, while two stayed with Mark.

There was a male and female officer with Mark. The male officer was busy using his walkie talkie, contacting someone out on patrol that the missing boy had in fact been found. 

"I thought you guys wait at least 24 hours before calling out the search parties..." Mark chuckled, trying to make light of the situation.

The female officer frowned and looked over at her partner. "Officer Hines is the DeLonge's neighbor. He knows Thomas very well, so things were jumpstarted, so to speak."

Mark bit his lip and looked towards the house. He gulped when he saw a stocky boy stomping towards him. Mark took a step towards the female officer and gulped, "You'll protect me, right?"

The angry looking boy reached out to grip Mark by the tshirt when the male officer rushed over, pulling him away saying, "Shon, you need to calm down. Just relax till we get all the facts."

Shon roughly pulled away from the uniformed officer and straightened out his dark tshirt. "I have plenty of facts, my kid brother goes missing and shows up hours later with a split lip and blood on his clothes. I don't need anything more!"

Mark, flabbergasted, began to argue with the brother of his new friend. "Are you kidding me? I'm his friend, I wouldn't hurt him! He got beat up at school and I gave him a ride home so he wouldn't get cornered again! We were just hanging out downtown and time slipped by us."

Shon rolled his bright blue eyes. "Yea, sure. Well I'm the tooth fairy if you're Thomas' friend." He scoffed before continuing, "Thomas has no friends."

Mark frowned looking over at the sudden motion coming from the house, Thomas was struggling to get out of his mom's arms as he ran towards where his brother and Mark were standing. "Thomas," Shon began, "This kid says he didn't hurt you, that he's your friend. Tell the officers how he kidnapped you and tried to hurt you."

Thomas quirked one eyebrow up and tilted his head, looking over at the slightly shorter boy he had met today. He looked back at his brother before he shook his head and pointed at Mark before giving two thumbs up. 

The officer raised one hand motioning she wanted to talk and clarified, "So, this guy right here," pointing to Mark and paused, asking for his name, before getting it and continuing. "Mark, didn't harm you at all?"

Thomas rolled his brown eyes and shook his head. Shon looked at Mark skeptically. 

"I told you." Mark raised both hands to the air in exasperation. Thomas' mother and a young girl came down the front lawn. 

The two officers that were with Thomas' mom got into their patrol car and left, leaving the other two to wrap things up. 

"Thomas?" Thomas' mother questioned quietly. Brown eyes darted over to Mark's and looked at the grass nervously. Mark could tell he had never been in this situation before. 

"Hi, My name is Mark, Mrs. DeLonge, I'm sorry for worrying all of you." Mark held out his hand to shake the parent's hand. 

Thomas' mother grasped the teen's hand before correcting him. "Connie, please call me Connie." 

Mark nodded and bit at his lip. "You said you're a friend of Thomas'?" She questioned. 

"Um, yes. I just moved here and we have a bunch of classes together. He was showing me around today." Mark scratched at the back of his neck and looked over to Shon, who was still staring him down, before looking at the girl who was also staring at him, although not quite as menacingly. 

"Well it's very nice to meet a friend of Thomas', Mark..." Connie paused, looking at Mark expectantly waiting for him to fill in his last name. 

"Oh! Um, Hoppus, ma'am." 

All four people turned abruptly when the young girl, who had been quiet up until then, exclaimed, "No fucking way!" 

Thomas giggled as Shon looked on proudly, while Connie scolded her. "Kari, where are your manners. Gosh, you're as bad as your brother. Don't swear. It's not ladylike."

Kari mumbled an apology before looking over at Mark. "Are you related to an Anne?"

Mark raised a questioning eyebrow before slowly answering, "Yes... She's my little sister."

Kari laughed and ran back into the house. Mark looked over at Thomas confused. The younger boy just shrugged his shoulders. 

"Alright then... Um. I guess I'll see you at school tomorrow?" Mark asked, waiting for a nod of confirmation from the boy and began to walk to his car before stopping and turning back around. 

"Hey wait! I don't know where I am. How do you get to Ridgecrest Road?" Mark called out. Thomas opened his mouth before closing it and turning to his brother. Shon was watching him with a questioning glance. 

Mark held back a smile when Thomas frowned and shoved his brother before pointing over at Mark. When the older boy didn't respond, Thomas stomped his foot and pointed again with a pout forming on his lips. 

Shon only spoke to his sibling, "You tell him!" Thomas threw his head back and reached up to pull on his hair, before holding up a finger to tell Mark to wait and then ran into his house. 

He resurfaced a few moments later dragging the arm of his mother, who was clutching her bathrobe over her chest with her free arm. "What is it, darling?" She questioned as they approached the boys still standing in their yard. 

Mark smiled when he saw Thomas raise both eyebrows and point at Mark. Thomas' mother's own brown eyes reflected confusion as she looked between her son and the stranger. "I'm sorry, hunny, I just don't understand what you need me to do..." She trailed off and looked over at her eldest son for help. 

Shon shrugged his sturdy shoulders, Thomas frowned and tried to let go of his mother's grasp. Mark cleared his throat and raised a finger to get her attention. "Um, I think he was thinking that maybe you could help me with directions back to my house? I haven't gotten my sense of direction down yet."

Thomas nodded fervently at his new friend's words and looked back and forth between his friend and his mom. Connie agreed and asked for his street name. When the boy replied, the woman smiled kindly and pointed to the back of the brown ranch home they were standing in front of.

"Well isn't that something else, you live so close. Your street is just down on the other side of those trees there. You're going to want to drive down to the end of our road here, and then take a left onto the main road. The next road is at a stoplight, you'll see a gas station there, take that left and drive to the end and then one more left and that's your street." Thomas' mother explained. She added afterwards, "It's a bunch of nonsense though, you're really only through the woods."

"Left, left, left. Okay. I think I can do that, thank you very much, Connie." The older woman nodded and turned to leave. Mark twirled his keys once and turned to walk back to his car. 

The police cruisers had left, leaving only the glow from the DeLonge's porch light. Shon had gone back inside at his mother's insistence, leaving Thomas standing in his driveway, watching Mark get ready to leave. 

The blue eyed boy opened his car door and looked at Thomas, standing like he was waiting for something. He gnawed on his lip and kicked at the slab of pavement beneath his worn shoes. 

"You want a ride into school tomorrow?" Mark called out, thumbing his car key as he stood there, one foot in the driver's seat side of his small car. 

Thomas nodded and looked at Mark with big brown eyes. Mark thought for a moment about how long it took him to get to school this morning and allotted time for fooling around and picking up Thomas. "7:00 good for you?" 

Thomas nodded and gave a small wave to his new friend. Mark returned the goodbye and hopped into his car, throwing it in reverse and backed out of the driveway. 

Mark turned on his blinker when he reached the end of the street. "Left, left, left."

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

The alarm clock came way too early for the sleepy teen. He groaned as his hand blindly knocked around, until it came in contact with the large black button on top of his small red digital clock.

Smiling, he snuggled back into the covers until he heard a small timid knock at his bedroom door. He could hear his mother's gentle voice seep through the hollow particle board that passed for wood.

"Mark, hunny, its time to get up for school! I made you some waffles for you, come eat them while they're hot."

The tired boy whined in response, but did his best to shuffle up into a sitting position. A few moments passed and Mark was still sitting on his bed. He stood up and stretched in his boxers, scratching himself until his morning wood disappeared and it was safe to be in front of his mother.

Mark made his way down the stairs and found his mom and sister sitting at the small kitchen table. He moved about the kitchen, searching the fridge for some juice and grabbing a plastic cup from the cabinet to the left of the large humming appliance. 

The blue eyed boy plopped down in the chair between his sister, Anne and his mom. Mark sipped on his juice with one hand while the other one reached for the syrup bottle shaped like a plump lady. 

When he put the cup down, Mark looked over to his mother and spoke while he spiraled his syrup over the toasted waffle. "Mom, you can stop staring at me. I'm real, I'm happy, I'm not going back to Dad."

Mark's mother, Kerry, flushed slightly at being caught watching her son and smiled tightly at him. "I'm just glad you're here, Mark, that's all sweetheart." 

Mark continued chewing and caught Anne's eyes. "I made a friend yesterday," Mark began. 

Kerry Hoppus gasped. "Oh that's wonderful, sweetheart!"

Mark continued speaking, ignoring his mother's overly-sweet remarks. "Yea, I'm actually going to give him a ride to school this morning. He's got a sister, says she knows you, Anne."

Anne looked thoughtful as she asked, "What's her name?" 

"I don't remember. His name is Thomas, DeLonge, I think. He's got a little sister that's your age. You know him?" Mark swallowed the rest of his juice and stood up to put his plate in the sink. 

Anne giggled, eyebrows raised. "Thomas DeLonge? You are friends with that kid? Out of all the kids in Poway High, you had to choose the one that won't speak?"

Mark's blue eyes darkened a bit as he frowned, feeling defensive over his new friend. "What's so wrong with that? Is he not allowed to have friends or anything? Everyone acts so fucking surprised that I would even want to be his friend!" Mark's voice rose as he spoke, frustration leaking out into his voice.

Mark's mom sent a warning glance to her son, not especially pleased with the foul language he had picked up living with his father.

Anne raised her arms, not wanting to upset her brother too much so quickly after his arrival in California. "It is a little surprising Mark, the guy has never had anyone want to go near him, he did have a few buddies way back in middle school, but I think they've taken to bullying him now. Probably pissed off that they were best friends and Thomas pretty much stopped talking to them and gave up their friendship when Thomas' dad left."

"Well, he's been nothing but nice to me. We get along pretty well." Mark said defensively, turning to leave the kitchen and climb the short set of stairs back up to his room, chuckling at his sister's response of, "That's because you talk too much!" and his mother hushing his sister.

Mark closed his door and checked the time, he still had thirty minutes before he had to be at Thomas' house. He dug through his duffle bag of slightly wrinkled clothing as he searched for something to wear. 

"I suppose I should unpack at some point." Mark mumbled to himself as he pulled out a pair of black jean shorts and a grey Mickey Mouse tshirt. He grabbed for his towel he had hanging on the back of his desk chair and walked across the hallway to the bathroom.

Letting the steam from the shower fill the bathroom, Mark brushed his teeth and relieved himself, stepping into the warm water when he was done. He stood there, shoulders slack as he wondered what he would do over the upcoming weekend.

He pondered what kind of mischief he could get into this weekend, possibly trying to include his new friend in these plans of his. 

Fifteen minutes later, Mark stepped out of the bathtub and dried himself off. Getting into his clothes, he stood before the mirror and looked at his tired face. 

He pulled open a drawer under the sink countertop and pulled out a bottle of mousse and shook the container, pouring a little into the palm of his hand. The teen weaved his fingers through his wet hair and straightened the pieces of hair atop his head. 

Satisfied with the way he looked, he finished in the bathroom and headed back to his room. Searching around his bed, he located his black backpack and slipped on his shoes, running down the stairs two at a time. 

Mark stumbled on the last two steps and knocked his book bag into the small side table at the bottom of the stairs that held the telephone on it. It clanged loudly to the floor, the bell inside of it ringing out in protest. 

"Honestly, Mark, please make it out the door in one piece!" His mother scolded, smiling while poking her head out from the kitchen, as Mark picked himself up and replaced the phone onto the dark wood. 

"Sorry!" He shouted as he jogged out the front door, digging for his car keys in his backpack.

A few minutes later, music playing loudly, he pulled up in front of Thomas' driveway and looked up to the front door. 

It stayed shut. Mark wondered if he should wait a couple moments or knock on the door. He checked his watch, he was about five minutes early. 

A moment later, Mark saw the door open quickly. The blue eyed teen chewed on his bottom lip as he watched Thomas' older brother make his way out of the house and to his own car. Mark sighed and turned the ignition off. Getting out of the car, he waved to the sturdy looking teen. 

"Hey...Shon, right? I'm Mark, we met-" Mark began, taking a few steps towards the other boy. Shon cut him off though, finishing the other one's sentence. 

"Last night, yea. Thomas is inside. You'll find out quickly that he can't get anywhere on time. Just go through the front door. It's fine, he's the only one thats home." Shon spoke quickly, seeming agitated with something.

Mark swallowed and looked back at the house, before thanking Shon. He turned and made his way up the short sidewalk. A loud putter from a car made Mark jump and look around, only seeing Shon's old jeep peel out of the driveway and speed away.

The blue eyed teen waited only a moment more before slowly opening the large brown front door. "Hey, Thomas? It's me, Mark. Your bro said I could come in. I hope thats okay..." 

Mark trailed off, seeing Thomas run out into the hallway before turning and running back to where he came from. He wasn't wearing any pants.

Thomas' head poked out from around a corner and showed Mark an angry face. A split second later, Thomas had one hand out in the hallway, one finger pointed downwards as he slowly twirled it.

"Turn around?" Mark asked, laughing. Mark saw the floating hand change into a thumbs up. He obliged and rocked on his toes while he waited. 

About thirty seconds after, Mark feels a large gust of air blow behind him. He assumes it's Thomas, going up the small set of stairs that were near where he was standing. 

He peeks back around and sees no one. His blue eyes catch a wall in the living room covered with photos of Thomas and his siblings at all ages. 

Mark scans the photos and notices a big change in Thomas' facial expressions over the years, specifically from his childhood to preteen years. 

Mark wonders if that may have been around the time when whatever incident that the girl from their math class had been alluding to. Whether or not it was something that involved Thomas' father, it definitely caused him emotional pain. 

The smile on the young man in the later photos just wasn't the same as the bright eyed boy in the DeLonge's older family photos. 

Mark jumped when he felt a tap on his shoulder, gasping as he looked over his left to see a giggling Thomas holding a hand over his mouth, part of his nose and one of his eyes.

The older boy glared as he waited for the slightly taller one to stop his laughter. Mark took a peek at young Thomas on the beige colored walls before seeing an identical smile on the boy in front of him. It made a dull fuzzy feeling rumble around in his stomach. 

"Are you ready to go, you ass?" Mark good-naturedly asked the smiling teen. Mark was met with an eager nod. Throwing an arm over the taller one, Mark pulled the younger one into a friendly nougie as they walked out the front door. 

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Mark backed into his spot and made sure his permit tag was hanging off of the rear view mirror. Blue eyes fell on Thomas, who was digging through his backpack. He pulled out a notebook and scribbled out a few words before raising it for Mark to read. 

~Can I have a ride home too?~

The older boy nodded and pulled his keys out of the ignition. "Course you can." Unbuckling their seat belts, Mark met Thomas in back of the car and the two boys walked up to the school. 

They had about ten minutes before school would begin. Mark followed Thomas until they came upon a bench near the front doors. Thomas sat on the bench and pulled his left foot up onto the unpainted wood and pulled on his laces, untying them before tightening and retying the dirty Converse. 

"So what kinds of stuff is there to do on the weekends around here?" Mark asked, sitting on the other end of the bench. His toes kicked at the small pebbles on the sidewalk. Mark looked over at Thomas waiting for some sort of a response. All the older boy got was a shrug and a tiny frown. 

"Well, what do you do then?" Mark rephrased his question and watched as Thomas finished tying his shoes and pushed his bangs out of his eyes. Thomas shook his head and scanned the crowds. 

"What, so you just stay home all the time?" Mark pushed. The blue eyed teen gave a small frown when he saw Thomas slowly nod his head. 

The boys sat next to each other in silence for the next few moments. A warning bell sounded outdoors, making most of the students head towards the front doors. Thomas picked up his bag and stood, turning and signaling for Mark to follow him.

Mark gathered his things and followed a step behind the taller boy, both of them making their way to their homeroom. Thomas walked to the back of the classroom where he had been seated yesterday when he first met Mark. When Mark took the seat next to Thomas, he bumped shoulders with him, making the teen laugh and push back. 

Thomas's smile dropped quickly as he watched Mark stumble back and knock into Jimmy. Mark turned, looking very apologetic towards whomever he had banged into, at least, until he saw who it was.

The older boy swallowed and slowly moved in between Jimmy and Thomas once Mark saw the bully narrow his eyes at the one who was at fault. Jimmy's fists clench at his sides, causing Thomas to shrink a bit in his seat. 

Mark braces himself mentally, knowing that if he shows an ounce of fear, Jimmy would take control of the situation and that is the last thing Mark wants.

"So what, are you two boyfriends now? Going to protect your little treasure from me?" Jimmy growled, sarcasm dripping thickly off his words. The muscled soccer player curled his fists and stepped towards Mark. 

Mark swallowed and tried his best to not show outwardly how nervous the other teen was making him feel. He didn't want to start trouble, not at this new school. 

Mark was saved from the confrontation when the homeroom teacher, Mrs. Bouchard, stepped up to the two standing boys. 

"Is there a problem here boys?" Mrs. Bouchard asked, placing a hand on each of the boys' shoulders. Her old green eyes looked over her glasses back and forth between the two tense faces. Mark chewed on his bottom lip as he shook his head, eyes wide at the teacher, trying to give off the vibe of innocence.

The teacher glanced quickly at the quiet boy sitting by Mark's side, before squinting at Jimmy, waiting for Jimmy to move back to his seat before returning to her place at the front of the room. 

Mark collapsed in the chair next to Thomas, eyes wide and let out a deep breath. Thomas turned his head from where he had it buried in his backpack, atop the table he shared with Mark's abandoned bag. He blinked rapidly, eyebrows burrowed over his deep brown eyes. 

Mark placed his head onto his bag and looked over at Thomas. His blue eyes met Thomas' brown ones. "Whew! That was a close one! Why the hell is that guy so bent on destroying you?" Mark whispered, pulling at a strand of gelled hair that had fallen onto his forehead. 

Mark paused his actions when he saw Thomas raise both shoulders shrugging, his eyebrows reaching high and a sad little frown fall upon his lips. Thomas dropped the boy's gaze and stared a spot on the table. 

The blue eyed teen took a deep breath and finished playing with his hair. He sat up and scooted his chair in, waiting for the bell to ring and role call to begin. 

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Mr. O'Landry scrawled across the chalkboard, back turned to the class as he went over last night's homework. Mark had begun writing notes until he noticed the girl from yesterday, Jessica, was staring at Thomas. 

Mark chewed on the end of his pencil, watching Jessica stare at Thomas, accidentally biting off the eraser and spit it out onto the floor. Thomas stopped his writing for a moment, glancing over at Mark, before quirking up one eyebrow and shaking his head, a smile playing at his lips.

He watched as Mark wiped his tongue clean of the pink bits of rubber, giggled at the other boy's misfortune and went back to his note taking. 

Mark finished wiping his tongue and looked back at Jessica. She was still staring at his new friend. Mark cleared his throat, catching Jessica's attention. He gave a tightlipped frown to her and watched as she blushed and turned away. 

Mark turned back around and looked towards Thomas. The mute boy's head was still buried beneath his writing, keeping his sole attention on the teacher. The blue eyed teen grinned when Thomas turned to look at him before trying to focus on the mention of a test next week.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Mark sat next to Thomas in photography, watching Mr. Green walk around the room with a SLR camera, mumbling about a team project that would be due by the end of next week. 

Mark leaned towards Thomas asking him if he would be his partner for the first film project. The teacher snapped at Thomas as he nodded in response, turning the boy's cheeks into a violent shade of pink.

Mark dropped his head and whispered a "Sorry..." as the dark haired teacher walked away. Thomas pulled his bottom lip into his mouth and shrugged off Mark's apologies. The older teen went up to the front of the classroom when Mr. Green asked for one partner from each team to come up and sign out a camera for the week. 

Mark signed his and Thomas' names on line three and took the large Nikon camera with the rainbow strap, a laminated three pinned near the lengthening buckle. He made his way back to his seat next to Thomas. Holding up the camera like a prize, he played around with the aperture settings and the lens focus. 

Thomas listened closely to the teacher's instructions as to what needed to be included in the project. 

Mark fiddled with the camera some more. Thomas jumped when the shutter clicked and looked over at Mark who had begun to giggle at the younger boy's surprised expression.

"Mahvahlous, that's it! That's it, Mahvahlous baby! Work it!" Mark drawled in an over the top British accent, making awful kissing faces at Thomas, laughing as he turned red. 

"Gentlemen, if you two are done I'd like to show everyone how to load film into the camera." Mr. Green interrupted, causing the flush to run down past Thomas' cheeks and onto his neck, disappearing below the neckline of the shirt.

Mark stifled his giggles and placed the camera in between the two of them before focusing his attention on the teacher as he dimmed the lights and turned on the overhead projector. 

The blue eyed teen rested his head on the palm of his hand as he propped up his elbow to listen to the teacher at the front of the room. Thomas was writing furiously across his notebook. Mark checked one time to make sure it was actually notes on photography and not the poetry he had caught him writing the day before. 

If it had been the poetry, Mark maybe would have tried harder to stay awake so at least one of them knew how to load the camera. However, that didn't work out so well. 

Mark fought hard against the drowsiness of slumber, blinking frequently and rubbing one eye with a fisted hand. It was useless though, he only had a couple hours of sleep last night, a side effect from his everlasting battle with insomnia. 

What seemed like only a few minutes to Mark, and actually 45 minutes to the rest of the world, Thomas was soon tapping on the older boy's shoulder to wake him up. It took a few tries before Thomas gave up that tactic and ended up picking up his algebra book and dropping it with a loud thud on the table in front of Mark's sleeping head.

The sleeping boy jolted upright, sending his chair flying sideways onto the floor and him standing looking around in circles trying to get his bearings. 

Confused blue eyes fell upon happy brown ones. Thomas waves at him with a big smile plastered on his face. 

"Hi. What, did you, why... what's going on?" Mark stuttered out, scratching at his spiked hair. He stared at the taller boy, watching as the other boy tapped at a non-existent watch on his wrist and threw a thumb at the doorway where a crowd of students were floating by, the shouts and the lack of intelligent conversations drifting into the now empty classroom. 

The SLR camera was resting snugly under Thomas' left hand, fingers gently playing with the brightly colored camera strap. Mark looked at the moving hand briefly before shaking his head briskly. He pursed his lips and pushed Thomas jokingly as he passed by the younger boy.

Mark made his way through the crowds, fighting his way towards the gymnasium, ready for another round of basketball dodging and watching carefully over his shoulder as to where Jimmy and his minion, Sam were located in relation to Thomas. 

The blue eyed teen trudged up the stairs, mulling over how much he would rather be anywhere else than the large gym with squeaky sneakers and disturbingly ripe shorts. He passed the large area with display cases in the walls for student artwork.

Mark looked over his shoulder when he felt a tug on his backpack. Thomas was shaking his head and pointing to a doorway across the checkered carpets that covered the area. The brown eyed boy wouldn't let go of the straps on the bottom of the black JanSport backpack.

Thomas pulled Mark up to the doorway and waved him into the room. Mark followed, a confused look on his face. "Thomas, whats going on? We're-" The warning bell cut Mark off. He waited till it finished before he continued questioning his friend. 

"We're going to be late for gym. Why're we here? Thomas. Thomas!" Mark urged, gritting his teeth as he ground out the other boy's name again.

Thomas lowered his eyebrows before pointing to the seat next to him and then turned to pull out his class schedule. He pointed to the seat next to him again before placing the piece of paper on the desk and turned to look at the teacher who was walking up to the front of the room. 

The bell rang and Mark slid into the seat, trying to figure out what Thomas was getting at. Thomas pointed at the second column on the schedule marked 'Day 2' and pulled out his notebook as the male teacher passed out a worksheet. 

Mark looked at the schedule and noticed how Thomas did not have gym everyday, they alternated with a health class with a different teacher. Mark then pulled out his own schedule and looked to see that his too alternated. 

"Oh. I don't have gym today. Well look at that." Mark smiled over at Thomas, who was staring back at him with an expression that looked as if he were saying, 'no shit' to Mark. The smiling boy grinned wider at the dumbfounded boy and turned to the teacher, peeking over to notice a small smile playing on the other's lips.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

"Hey so can you show me real quick where the English wing is? I have it next, then if you're not sick of me yet, we can meet up for lunch." Mark offered, throwing his bag over his shoulder. 

Thomas gnawed on his lip as he nodded his head in agreement. He pointed down the long hallway on the second floor and began to walk that way. Thomas turned to look back at Mark and ended up smacking right into Jimmy.

"What the fuck is with you two today? You need to learn how to watch where you're fucking walking or I'll make it so that you can only roll through the halls on a set of large wheels. 

Thomas nodded briskly, trying to collect himself and his things he dropped from around Jimmy's feet. Mark bent down to help the flustered boy, neatly stacking his papers on top of a red spiral bound notebook. 

Jimmy walked away, kicking at some of the scattered papers, sending them further away from their owner. Sam followed after, but not before swiping at the pile Thomas had collected in his hands so that they floated to the floor again. Thomas frowned and watched as Sam and Jimmy laughed together at the silent boy's misfortune, Sam turning and blowing a kiss at Thomas.

Mark tried to ignore the way Thomas' cheeks flushed from embarrassment and a small shimmer that shone in one of the boy's eyes. 

"Hey, don't worry about them. They're assholes." Mark said, passing over the stack of papers he had collected from the floor. Thomas stuffed them into his bag and zipped it up, before throwing it over his shoulder and rubbing a hand over his face. He shrugged and started walking down the hallway he had pointed to before. 

They walked silently through the crowds of students. Turning a corner, Mark got cut off by two girls. The warning bell sounded and he tried to find a way around them without being rude. 

The girls slowed and blocked the pathway entirely, causing more students to filter in and cause a greater distance between Thomas and himself. Mark tried to squeeze last the blonde on the right, her hair swinging into his face as she flipped it over her shoulder. 

He coughed as some of the strands went into his mouth. The blonde girl looked at Mark as he gagged a little, with a look of disgust. 

Mark frowned at the girl, pushing out an apology as he scrambled to catch up with Thomas. The blue eyed boy shouted out the younger one's name, throwing a hand in the air when he turned at the sound of his name. 

Thomas stopped walking and waited for his friend to catch up, ignoring the annoyed stares from his peers. 

"Thanks, dude. Do all these people have sticks up their asses? Jeez, they're all so easily annoyed." Mark remarks as he pushes his way to walk next to Thomas and not behind him. 

Thomas just shrugs and makes his way to the side of the hallway, pointing at his chest before shaking his thumb at the doorway behind him. He then points at Mark's chest, quickly looking apologetic when he gets shoved and ends up stabbing Mark on his chest before sheepishly pointing just around the corner of the hallway, presumably the English wing. 

Thomas makes a spiral with his hands in front of him, signaling to Mark to move quickly as the hallways clear out, fourth period drawing near. Mark thanks the silent boy and hurries down the hall, pulling out his schedule to search for his room number before scuttling into the right doorway just as the bell rings. 

Mark huffs to his seat and collapses upon it, looking around to see if anyone he knows is in the class with him. "Mr. Hoppus, so glad you could join us today." He hears a female say to him.

Looking around his eyes quickly fall upon Mrs. Bouchard, his homeroom teacher, as well as apparently his fourth period English teacher. She hands him a copy of "Animal Farm" by George Orwells and tells him, "You have a lot of reading to catch up on." 

Mark blushes and apologizes, assuring her he will in fact finish all the required reading over the weekend. The gentle looking teacher nods at him as she fixes her glasses and walks back to the head of the classroom. 

Fourth period drones on, rather uneventfully. Mark has under five minutes left when the intercom beeps and a scratchy voice asks for a "Mark Hoppus, please go to the nurses office immediately."

Confused, Mark looks up at Mrs. Bouchard. At her nod, Mark collects his things and carefully steps over the books and bags half-hazardly dumped into the walkways.

Wandering down the hall, he follows signs for the main office, figuring the nurses office must be nearby. Mark passes Thomas' classroom, quickly glancing inside in the hopes of catching a glimpse of his only friend. 

Not seeing the familiar brown eyes and hair, he keeps going. The hallway widens up and Mark recognizes the front entrance he passed through earlier with Thomas. Mark sees the nurses office sign across the entryway. He nervously fixes his shirt when the swinging of the main office door catches his eyes. 

Mark recognizes his Algebra teacher, Mr. O'Landry waving him down. Mark looks around just to be sure before he stops and the teacher catches up to him. 

"Mark, I was the one that requested you be paged to the nurses office. It's about Thomas." Mr. O'Landry explained, pushing his glasses up by the bridge of his nose. 

The teen tried to ignore the uncomfortable prickle on the back of his neck as the hairs there stood up straight. He waited for the teacher to go on. 

"Something happened to him in the boys' room and we, obviously, can't get anything out of him. I'm most concerned because there had definitely been a confrontation between him and Sam Knightly. Their history teacher apparently lost track of who he let use the bathroom during his class and I walked by and heard the shuffle." Mr. Landry cleared his throat, placing a hand on Mark's shoulder before he continued, clearly uncomfortable with what he was about to say. 

"I'm not sure if there was anything inappropriate that occurred, Thomas was struggling to get his shorts back up when I entered the bathroom. He's in the nurse's office. I figured you might be able to help him because somehow in the two days you've been here you formed a near impossible friendship."

Mark's shoulders were rounded, looking every bit sad as he felt upon hearing this news.

"I'll walk you in." The teacher offered. Mark nodded and followed him into the nurse's office. 

Mark looked around as he heard Mr. O'Landry's deep voice quietly speaking with the nurse. There was a small waiting area with vinyl seats in the main room before the room narrowed and was covered by curtains and uncomfortable looking vinyl beds with paper covered pillows. 

There were three bays of curtains. Two were possibly in use, the white curtains drawn tightly closed, the third was open and empty. Mark turned when he heard his name be mentioned, the nurse catching his eye. 

Mark followed the nurse when she motioned for him to and stopped outside of the curtain furthest to the left.

"Thomas," she called out, "There's someone here to see you. We're going to open the curtain a little."

There was no response. The nurse waited a few more moments before Mark rolled his eyes and sighed loudly. The nurse looked over her shoulder before pulling the curtain back. 

Mark's not quite sure what to expect is behind the curtain, but certainly was not the sad heap of boy curled up on the cold bed. Thomas has his face covered with his hands, legs pulled in tight to his body. At the movement of the curtain he shivers, legs moving, pushing himself away from the nurse. 

"I want you to know that I am supposed to report sexual abuse instances to the police, however since I can't actually tell if anything happened yet I've held off." The nurse speaks quietly to Mark. Mark drops his bag to the floor and moves past the nurse. 

He can hear the nurse shutting the curtain, the metal circles clinking together and her walking away. He lost track of where Mr. O'Landry went to, but he's pretty sure he's not too far away. Mark moves to sit at the end of the bed, a couple feet away from Thomas' worn sneakers. 

"Hi." 

Mark waits for some sort of reaction from his friend. Nothing changes so Mark scoots a little closer and tries again. The bells signaling the end of fourth period rings and Thomas sinks further into the bed, paper pillow crackling beneath his body. 

"Thomas? You alright, dude?"

Thomas shifts slightly, uncurling his knees from up under his arms and brings his hands down slightly. Mark tries not to let a sound out of his mouth as he takes in the wet, red rimmed eyes and the way he's just now noticing that Thomas is shaking. 

Mark is right next to the silent boy's feet, debating whether or not he should move closer or back up and give Thomas space. "Thomas? What do you need to help you feel better?" He reaches out to pull down the back of Thomas' shirt that has ridden up. 

He pauses when he sees scratches, still red and slightly bleeding on the boy's back. "Fuck." He whispers. Brown eyes meet blue, and Mark scoots closer, rubbing the boy's back a little, near the top between his shoulder blades. Thomas keeps his hands over his face but scoots down until he's got his body wrapped around where Mark is sitting. 

"What did he do to you?" Mark asks quietly, knowing he won't get a verbal response, but hoping for some sort of nod or shake of the head if he can just ask the right questions. 

He doesn't want to start with the big question that's lurking in his mind, but he feels that if he doesn't he's going to end up asking a bunch of smaller, less important ones. He goes for it. 

"Thomas, did he rape you?"


	4. Chapter 4

Mark stares down at the silent boy's shaking figure. The boy has moved his hands up to cover his face while he shakes his head, signaling to Mark that he was not taken advantage of by Sam.

"Oh thank God." Mark breathes out, swallowing and moving his hand up to stroke Thomas' head, trying to comfort but unsure of his actions.

"You think he wanted to though?" The blue eyed boy questions. His hand moves awkwardly over the crown of Thomas' light brown hair.

A sob leaks out from behind the younger boy's fingers. He jerks his head up and down against the paper covered pillow his head is resting upon.

Pieces of his hair get stuck in between Mark's fingers as Thomas is confirming the last question asked. As the older boy smooths them out, his motions get more fluid, keeping a constant stroking motion going on the top of the boy's head.

Mark looks over his shoulder, hearing his teacher and the nurse conversing nearby.

"Hey, Thomas," Mark taps the boy on his shoulder.

Red-rimmed brown eyes peer up at the older teen. "I'm going to go let the nurse know that you're okay, he didn't hurt you." Thomas grips the edge of Mark's tshirt. He shakes his head, eyebrows arched high above, creasing his forehead.

"I know dude, but we have to let her know. I'll be right back. Hey, hey." Mark was patient with the boy, giving him a moment before he gave him a reassuring smile and wiped at the boy's forehead, swiping his hand back and over the damp brown hair.

"I will be right back. You're going to be okay. We will figure this out, you're not alone." Mark stands up and walks to the curtain, peering over his left shoulder to check on Thomas one last time. He chuckles as he sees the over exaggerated frown and big brown eyes.

He pulls back the curtain and walks out to the main part of the nurse's office. Mr. O'Landry is talking softly to the nurse. They both turn towards Mark and cease their conversation when they hear the boy's footsteps.

Mr. O'Landry speaks first. "Were you able to get any information out of him? Do you know what happened?"

Mark looks between the two adults and talks with a hushed voice, not wanting Thomas to hear him and become upset any further. "He wasn't raped, but Sam definitely tried to. He's got scratches on his back, they're bleeding a bit."

Mark is ready to continue but the nurse is swooping past him, grabbing her rolling cart full of cotton balls and gauze packages. Mark wants to follow her, he takes a step in the same direction the nurse has taken but stops himself. He turns, looking at Mr. O'Landry who is rubbing his face.

The teacher looks at Mark, and wipes at his glasses before he begins to talk. "Mark, you were a great friend to Thomas today. He really trusts you, he's never made a connection like that with anyone before, as far as I know anyways."

Mark smiles, scuffing the bottom of his dirty shoe on the speckled tiles. "Thanks. Think he'll be okay?" The blue eyed teen questions, wanting reassurance from his teacher.

The older man is nodding. "It may take some time but he'll survive. I'm just glad it wasn't any worse. Man," the teacher pauses, shaking and shivering slightly, "the poor kid has had enough to deal with in his life, I wish someone would cut him some slack!"

Mark nods in agreement and turns his head when he hears a clatter of metal hitting the tiled floor. The nurse appears in their sight, looking slightly frazzled as she goes to pick up her thermometers and stethoscope.

She catches Mark's eyes and she beckons him. "I could use some help keeping your friend calm while I clean and bandage his back. I don't want the scratches to start to adhere to his tshirt. They're already starting to seep through his shirt. That will hurt a ton when he goes to take it off."

Mark bites on his lip and nods, stepping quickly back behind the curtain to see his friend curled up on his side, knees tucked up under his chin. "Thomas, hey, the nurse needs to clean your back, she will be gentle."

Thomas shook his head back and forth, showing disagreement with Mark's statement. He inched away from the nurse who had moved back to where she had been sitting before on her stool, in between the wall and Thomas' back.

Blue eyes rolled about as he sighed and went to sit on the edge of the bed again. "Dude, she's just trying to help. What's wrong?"

Mark was getting a little frustrated with his silent friend. The boy just lay there, staring up at Mark with wide eyes. Mark keeps the boy's eye for a moment before looking up at the nurse.

She shrugged, shaking her head with a sigh before beginning to put away her things. Mark frowns and brings his attention back to Thomas. He takes a deep breath and holds out a warm hand.

Thomas' eyes flickers down to the other boy's open hands before raising quickly up to Mark's face.

The older boy nods his head, signaling for Thomas to go ahead and take his hand. "I told you, Thomas, you're not alone. Just let her, I'll talk to you the whole time."

Thomas pulls his bottom lip into his mouth and slowly inches his hand into Mark's grasp. He looks at Mark before dropping his eyes to watch as the other boy threads their fingers and begins to ramble, making a valiant effort to distract Thomas.

"So, there's this light pole outside my house, I'd say it's about twenty feet up or so, and I have this wicked strong urge to climb it anytime I see it. Anne said I was nuts to do it, that's my sister, but, I've been giving it some serious thought and I never really think anything through. Do you think I would break anything if I did that? I'm mostly concerned about my ass, I do like using it to sit on, play Nintendo on, watch tv on, I can't really jeopardize any of that, you know?" Mark takes a deep breath and glances behind the laying boy.

The nurse is finishing taping on a small gauze pad and gives Mark a quick thumbs up. She stands and scoots her rolling stool back.

Thomas looks over his shoulder and notices that she has finished taking care of him. He sniffs and let's go of Mark's hand, a slight blush rolling over his cheeks.

He half sits up, bracing his weight on his left lower arm. He grimaces as he tries to pull himself into an upright position. Mark is quickly standing at his side. "Whoa whoa whoa, slow down there buckaroo, where are you even going?"

Thomas stands up and shuts his eyes tightly, his right hand coming up to grab his side. He points past the curtain to a bathroom. He wiggles his hand, thumb sticking up between his first two fingers.

Mark squints at the boy's hand, knowing it looks familiar but still unsure. "I don't know what you are saying, let me get some paper, hold on!"

Thomas grabs at his zipper and frowns, trying to move past Mark. The nurse walks back into the curtained area and sees Thomas' gestures.

"He needs to go to the bathroom. He's signing toilet. It's how he asks to use the bathroom at school, so the teachers know." She explains to Mark, who looks at Thomas with an 'oh, I get it now' face.

Thomas scurries to the bathroom and shuts the door. Mark waits to hear the lock click into place before asking about Sam. The nurse shrugs and pulls off the paper bedding, balling it up. "I'm not sure dear. Mr. O'Landry probably knows. He's out front waiting for you two."

The teen thanks the nurse and steps out into the nurse's main room. "Mr. O'Landry? Where is Sam? Is he going to get in trouble for this? I know that he didn't actually get a chance to, but Thomas is sure that he wanted to. Doesn't attempting to rape someone get some kind of consequence?" Mark interrogates the teacher.

The teacher sighs and rubs his nose under his glasses. "He will have consequences for his actions for sure, I'm not in charge of that though. How old are you, Mark?"

The blue eyed teen quasars one eyebrow up and peers at the teacher. "Eighteen. Why?"

Mr. O'Landry looks relieved. "Because then you can sign yourself out at any time. I'm going to get ahold of Thomas' mother and get her permission for him to leave with you. I don't think he can be at school right now, he was limping before like he's really bruised."

Mark nods and sits on a bench in the nurse's office waiting for Thomas to come out of the bathroom. Mark kicked his shoes back and forth while he waited for Thomas.

A few more minutes pass by and no sign of Thomas. Mark fiddles with his fingers and he looks around for the nurse or some sign of Mr. O'Landry.

The nurse is busy with a young girl who looks a little green in the face. He looks through a window into the main lobby and can see the math teacher speaking with a secretary in the main office.

He waits about ten more seconds before standing and making his way to the bathroom door he knocks. Mark leans closely into the extra wide door trying to hear some kind of response. After a moment he can hear the toilet flushing.

The teen breathes a sigh of relief. He then hears the sink turn on and he backs up against the opposite wall to wait for his younger friend.

He's studying his shoes when the door creaks open and Thomas slowly emerges.

"Hey, you alright?" Mark asks, looking at the boy with concerned eyes.

Thomas gives a short nod and starts to walk with tiny steps up to the nurse's desk. He waits for her to finish speaking with the girl and raises one eyebrow up at the nurse before turning with the same expression towards Mark, silently asking the other boy to read his mind and talk for him.

Mark takes a gamble and begins to talk on Thomas' behalf. "So, is he all set?"

The nurse looks at the two boys confused. "No, not quite yet. Mr. O'Landry is checking on your excusal, Thomas. If he gets the okay then you can head to the main office to sign out."

Mark nods and turns to look at the office across the main lobby. Mr. O'Landry is still in there, speaking with the vice principal now.

He pulls on Thomas' tshirt sleeve and goes to sit back down near the window. The younger teen frowns and limps over, slowly lowering himself to sit next to Mark on the bench.

Mark leans in towards the other boy. "Dude, you look like you're in a lot of pain. I can go get my car if we get the okay to bail so you don't have to walk so far, if you want."

Thomas looks at Mark, swallows and seems to be thinking it over for a moment. He's starting to frown and shakes his head from left to right once when the nurse's office door swings open and hits the bench the two boys are sitting on.

Mark looks over to the left quickly, startled. He sees a boy with a bloody nose at first but then sees Thomas, clutching his side, eyes squeezed tight and his lips drawn in a tight pained frown.

Thomas opens his eyes and finds a pair of blue ones watching him closely. He goes to sit up straight but has to stop, again clutching his side.

The nurse steps out from behind the kid with the bloody nose, a wad of gauze pressed firmly under his nostrils, and squats down in front of Thomas.

"Thomas," she speaks in a quiet voice, knowing how resistant he was earlier, "can I look at your hip?"

Large brown eyes rush up to Mark's blues before settling on the nurse in front of him. He looks like he wants to say no, but he continues on in his silence.

Mark watches, feeling helpless. He wants to tell the nurse what he sees in his face, the way he is screaming 'no!', but he is far to curious and stays silent himself.

The nurse reaches out slowly and lifts the side of Thomas' tshirt, and Mark can see something pink, blue and a tiny splash of green on his skin. She reaches for the lip of his boxers and shorts, but stops when he pushes backwards against the window, his head banging on the glass.

"Alright, alright, I won't touch anymore. Calm down. Thomas follow me though please." The nurse orders, leaving no room for objection from the teen.

Mark sits and watches as Thomas tries to stand, before he lifts his arms and braces the boy's elbow, helping him up. Mark starts to follow before second guessing himself and turning back to sit again. He leans his ear closer to where his friend and the nurse walked to.

He catches words here and there, "hurt", "awhile", "report", and his own name. When he hears that he perks up a bit, curious as to what he has to do with what they are saying.

Mr. O'Landry walks into the nurse's office while Mark is eavesdropping and startles him by calling out his name while standing right next to him.

"Ah! Fu--" Mark catches himself, "--udge. Fudge Mr. O'Landry! You scared me."

The teacher chuckles and apologizes. "I wanted to let you know that I was not able to get ahold of Thomas' mother."

Mark frowns and asks before the older man can finish, "What're we going to do then?"

Mr. O'Landry patiently continues on in his explanation. "I called the first person on his emergency contact list, his older brother, Shon? He gave his okay for Thomas to leave with you."

Mark is surprised, "Really? Wow and last night the guy wanted me dead."

The teacher looks suspiciously at Mark, wondering if he is joking or not before looking up at a scuffling noise. Mark's eyes follow the sound as well to see Thomas leaning against a wall, clutching his side, eyes dropped to the floor.

Mark walks up to him and bends down, giving the boy no choice but to look at him. "Hey," he says softly, "what's going on?"

The nurse comes forwards and beckons the math teacher. Mark puts his hand on the younger boy's shoulder and just watches him hunch over and lean more heavily on the wall. Mark can hear the nurse explaining to Mr. O'Landry what it is she found out.

"He's got multiple bruises on his hip and lower stomach, some from today that are pink but there are some green and brown ones, over a week old I'd say. I know his father isn't at home, I asked him about that but what about his mother? Or a mother's boyfriend?"

Mark looks surprised over at Thomas' lowered face. The brown eyed boy won't look up but shakes his head in disagreement. They both can hear what the adults are talking about.

The older teen leaves his friends side as he stomps back to where the adults are. "His mom is the sweetest lady, there's no way she would hurt Thomas. We were out a little late last night and you should have seen how worried and relieved she was when we got back! Thomas says there's no boyfriend either."

Mark then turns his icy eyes on Mr. O'Landry. "So are we cleared to go? He looks drained, I'd rather not put him through more hell than necessary."

Mark's teacher doesn't look happy at Mark's choice of words but nods and raises his arm up towards the doorway. "You both need to sign out at the front desk." Mark nods curtly and then turns, going back to Thomas.

"C'mon, let's get out of here." Thomas looks up confused at Mark's words.

Mark raises Thomas' arm and pulls it across his own back and over his opposite shoulder. He pulls at the boy's body to get them walking while he explains. "Mr. O'Landry called your mom but couldn't get ahold of her, Shon's next on the list I guess and he gave the all clear that I could bring you home. We just got to sign out and then we're out of this popsicle stand."

Thomas gives a faint smile and limps along with Mark's assistance. They make their way across the lobby and Mark juggles pulling the door open with his free hand and keeping it open with one foot as he manages to get both of them through the doorway and into the main office.

An older woman smiles kindly at the two boys, knowing what they are here for. "Just sign your name here Thomas, and then Mark, is it?" She questions, quickly introducing herself as Mrs. Louis. "It's nice to meet you Mark. Just sign here that you are the one picking him up and then sign yourself out below and check off that you're eighteen."

She waits for the two boys to finish before wishing them a pleasant weekend.

Mark helps Thomas back through the office door and then leads him over to a bench. He makes the other boy sit down before turning and walking backwards, headed to the parking lot. "You stay here. I'm going to get my car and then I'll get you up front!"

Thomas wants to protest, but watches instead as Mark turns and runs down the hallway. A small smile begins to beam as Thomas can hear his friend being yelled at to walk by a hallway monitor.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

"No, Thomas, I said I would get you what you wanted. It's my stupid fault for forgetting our lunches at school. Let me buy you some food. You don't take stuff easily, do you?" Mark noted, looking back at the storefront of a Mexican place he had found after getting lost on his way home from school.

Thomas frowned and shook his head, arms coming up across his chest defensively.

"Let me just get you a burrito." Mark tried again.

Thomas glared at his new friend, who was unbuckling his seatbelt. "I'll be right back. Just stay there. No sense in you hobbling around like an old man more than you have to."

Thomas fought hard against the grin that wanted to come across his face. "I'll just get you a burrito!" Mark shouted as he slammed his car door shut and ran into the store.

Thomas watched from the car as Mark waited in line behind two middle aged men. He blushed when Mark turned around and caught him staring at him, waving excitedly. The red teen tried to concentrate more on the green sun shades on top of the windows.

A few minutes later Mark came out of the restaurant, carrying a bag of food and a carrying tray with two sodas on it. Thomas' stomach rumbled as he dug through the bag while Mark backed out of the parking spot.

He held up two different colored wrapped burritos. He raised his eyebrows and waited for Mark to look his way.

Mark quickly looked his way before telling him from over his shoulder, "Either one. The blue wrapped one has beans in it the green one doesn't. They're both beef with rice and lettuce and this sauce that's really good. Have you eaten here before?"

Thomas shook his head and unwrapped the burrito in green and took a large bite. He chewed and looked over at Mark who was drumming his hands on the steering wheel.

Mark turned onto his street and Thomas tapped his shoulder shaking his head and throwing his thumb over his shoulder before pointing at himself.

Mark smiled and told the boy, "I know your house is that way, but I live over here."

The two sit silently as they continue down the road. Mark puts his blinker on and turns into his driveway, pulling up under a rusty net-less basketball hoop. He opens the door and gets out, running around to the passenger's side.

He gets the door open and leans down to grab Thomas' elbow, surprising him and making the boy jump.

Mark makes a face and apologizes. "Sorry dude, didn't you hear the door open?"

Thomas frowns and finishes rewrapping his burrito and places it back into the bag. Thomas turns and sticks both feet out the door and plants them on the paved driveway.

He moves to get out before he stops suddenly, falling forwards and gripping his side.

Mark is there in a flash down by his side, knees rubbing on the pavement as he is helping ease Thomas onto his own knees, giving him a moment before he asks if he's ready to stand.

Mark can see that Thomas is taking a few deep breaths, as deep as his side allows him to at least. He looks at Mark and nods, grimacing as Mark grabs his elbow and under his armpit with his other hand. Thomas locks his hand in Mark's elbow, strengthening his support and increasing the leverage for him to rise.

Once he's standing, Thomas sends a thankful look to the other boy before turning and looking sadly back at the bag of food and sodas still in the car.

Mark chuckles and shoos Thomas away from the car. He grabs the burritos and tray of sodas and turns, finding Thomas staring up at his house.

Mark bites his lip a little self consciously, looking up at his small house. It's much smaller than his friend's ranch home on the other side of the woods.

Thomas nods, as if he approves, and looks over at Mark who is staring at him. When Mark realizes he has been caught, he blushes and drops his gaze to his feet, not seeing Thomas do the exact same thing.

"Um, so let's go in." Mark mumbles as he leads the way up to the front door.

Mark juggles the food and drinks in one hand as he reaches in his pocket for his keys. Thomas is looking at the street as a loud motorcycle rides by.

"Thomas? Earth to Thomas?" Mark calls, standing in the front hallway of his house, holding the door open for the younger boy.

Thomas turns red yet again and wipes at his nose before climbing the one step and entering the foyer.

Mark closed the door and turns, pointing to the stairs behind him. "We can go eat in my room. My mom is not home so she won't know!" Mark smiles and begins to lead the way.

Mark stops suddenly mid-step on the stairs, spinning around and looking surprised that Thomas bumped into him.

Thomas bites both his lips and looks up with apologetic eyes. Mark smiles and apologizes as well. "I just got to get the ice pack from the freezer, hang on a sec, man."

Mark places the food on the stairs and hops down them, two at a time. He disappears into the kitchen. Thomas looks at the wall to the left of him. There are lots of family pictures.

When Mark returns, Thomas is giggling at the wall. Mark hops up the steps and sees the photo he is looking at. It's Mark about three years prior, donning a thick layer of eyeliner.

"Yea yea yea, I was going through a phase. I bet your mom has lots of embarrassing photos of you. I'll have to ask her next time I'm over, and you can't stop me." Mark teases, picking up the food and continuing up the steps.

When he reaches the top, Thomas is slowly making his way up one stair at a time, frowning at his friend. "Hey, you asked for it."

Mark bumps shoulders with Thomas, wanting to show that he was joking around but swears when he sees Thomas grab his side. "Shit, sorry dude, I completely forgot. Fuck, I'm such a shitty friend."

Thomas is trying to shake his head in disagreement but is having a hard time. Mark opens his bedroom door and leads the younger boy in.

"Here, do you want to sit or lay down?" Mark puts the food and drink on the floor and moves to help Thomas lay on the bed but stops when he sees all the clothing on his bed.

He shoves it all onto the carpet and helps Thomas lay down. He takes the ice pack and puts it underneath his side, right above his hip and helps him roll on top of it so its wedged in between the bed and his body.

"There. Are you alright? Can I get you anything? You want your food and soda?" Mark questions him, smacking his own face when he sees Thomas give him a look.

"Sorry! I keep forgetting." Mark again apologizes and asks his first question again.

Thomas nods and looks at him for the next question. Mark asks about if he needs anything and follows where Thomas is pointing. He sees the burrito bag and soda sitting where Thomas' fingers are pointing.

"Aw, of course dude. Here." Mark passes him his half eaten burrito and places one of the sodas on the table.

"So, do you like Star Wars?" Mark asks as he holds up a VHS trilogy collection, smiling when Thomas nods a yes.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

The credits roll on the screen in Mark's bedroom and he turns with a huge smile to comment on how amazing the movie is each and every time he sees it. He stops short when he sees Thomas is still on his side, laying with his hands tucked under his cheek, eyes peacefully shut.

He quietly stands and collects their garbage, his mom will be home soon and he would rather stay out of trouble when introducing his new friend. He brings their trash to the kitchen and gets rid of the evidence, ready to head back upstairs when his mom walks through the door.

"Oh! Mark, what are you doing already home?" She asks, setting her things down on the kitchen table before narrowing her eyes and continuing, "Mark Alan, did you skip school? I'm not okay with that, you may have gotten away with those things living with your father, but not here mister. Go to your room."

Mark raises one eyebrow and defends himself,"Well, no, I was at school, but something happened and they let me go. Mom, I swear, I only missed three classes, it was a one time thing, I had to!"

Kerry Wernz looked at her son, giving him a raised eyebrow back, wanting an explanation. Mark shifts uneasily on his feet, stuffing his hands into his pocket. He looks at his feet before looking up to his mom's face.

The look on her face is pure disappointment and Mark is not prepared for it. He gives a sad little frown before looking out of the kitchen to the staircase. He looks back at his mom and tries to explain.

"You, you remember that friend I said I made this morning? He doesn't talk and is shy? Well, he gets picked on a lot at school. This, um, this one kid took it too far and um, well he tried to hurt him really bad today, Mom-" Mark's voice catches and he takes a moment to calm himself, slowly realizing how scared he had been for Thomas today.

"So, my teacher called me to the nurse's office to help because he trusts me, Mom, me. I've known him for two days and I was the only one at that school that he trusted enough to get close to him. So since I'm eighteen I could sign myself out and bring him home." Mark finishes, hoping that his story satisfied his mother.

Kerry leans back against the kitchen counter and studies her son. She watches as he shifts under her gaze, nervous. She knows that he has not told her everything, that something is up because he keeps checking the stairs.

She clarifies, "So you brought him to his home? That's it?"

Mark looks at her, his blue eyes big and innocent while looking into her own. "Well, I took him to *a* home..."

Her shoulders sink and she snaps her head back, looking at the ceiling as she scolds him. "Mark Alan, did you bring that boy here?"

He bites on the inside of his cheek as he feels his face heat up, not entirely sure of why he is feeling embarrassed. "Maybe."

She smacks him on the shoulder lightly before turning to clean up the counters. "Mark, I need you to give me some warning. This place is a mess. How could you bring someone here the first time like this?"

Mark looks around. Some of the chairs at the table aren't pushed in and he sees breakfast in the sink but thats it. "Mom, I had no choice. He didn't have anyone home and I didn't want him to be by himself after he nearly got ra-"

Mark cuts himself off when he realizes he did exactly what he didn't want to do. He didn't want his mom knowing all of what happened today and pitying his friend before even having the chance to meet him.

Mark's mother has stopped washing the dishes in the sink. The water is still running but she is looking out the window. Something he always saw her do after an argument with his dad.

Mark stays quiet while she processes what he just gave away. She turns off the water and says in a hushed voice, "Your friend nearly got raped at school?"

Mark lowers his eyes, feeling them burn as he feels the salt rushing to escape. He sniffs and nods his head, feeling an awful lot like Thomas as he stays silent. His mother steps up to him and wraps him in a hug.

"Oh, sweetheart, that must have been horrible for you to have to see the aftermath. Is the boy alright? What was his name again?" Kerry pulls back to look at her son's young face. It's a little red, and she can tell he is trying to not cry in front of her.

Mark sniffs again, briefly thinking to only ask one question at a time before he realizes it doesn't matter. "He's okay, shook up and bruised but okay. He's sleeping in my room now. His name is Thomas."

Kerry runs her hand over her son's head and pulls him back in for a hug. "Oh honey. Why didn't his mother take him home though?"

The two move to sit down at the kitchen table and Mark explains everything. He runs through how Thomas reacted and where he was hurt, how the school wasn't able to get ahold of his mother but was able to reach his older brother. He tells her how protective he felt towards the younger boy and how angry he felt towards Sam.

He wipes at his eyes before taking a deep breath in, feeling a weight has been lifted from his chest, knowing that his mom knows everything now. His mom is about to comfort Mark, her hand reached out to gently wipe at his cheek when the two freeze at the sound of a terrified scream.

Mark's head spins around at the sound and he is confused for a moment before he places the noise is coming from his room. His mother makes the connection first and is running up the stairs, Mark hot on her heels.

Kerry opens the door to Mark's bedroom and gasps at the state of distress the young teen is in. He is having a nightmare, sheets crumpled beneath him, his shirt having risen up revealing a kaleidoscope of green, purple and blue bruises. His arms are flailing and there are tears streaming out of his clenched eyes.

Mark is next to his mother, looking back and forth, unsure of what to do. His mom only hesitates for a moment before going to her son's bed, sitting on the edge of it and grabbing for the boy's arms. "Thomas, Thomas," she says, immobilizing the teen with her own hands, "calm down Thomas. Wake up, sweetie, it's alright, wake up, you're alright dear."

Another cry leaves Thomas' lips before his brown eyes blink a few times, completely disoriented and scared, looking around and focusing on Mark's mom before looking over to see him, standing there feet planted to the carpet with scared blue eyes.

He hasn't ever witnessed anyone having a nightmare before, despite the fact that he himself used to wake from them quite often while his parents were going through their divorce. The noise that left Thomas' lips is raw, cracking and strained. Mark can tell he hasn't used his vocal chords in a long time. Such a foreign sound.

Thomas looks back up at the woman leaning over him, and lets himself be collected in her arms, another sob breaking out from his lips. Kerry begins to rock the boy, her motherly instinct kicking in regardless of the fact that she has never met her son's friend, simply driven to calm the boy.

Mark watches his mom rock Thomas, rubbing the back of his head and speaking softly to him. He wonders what he would have done if his mother hadn't been home when he woke.

Thomas settles down, and looks up into blue eyes that look an awful lot like his new friend's. He suddenly realizes he does not know who this woman is that is holding him.

He pushes against the woman's arms and scrambled back, his arms getting tangled in Mark's sheets. He looks up to Mark, eyes wide and doe like. Mark snaps out of his daze, moving to the bed to stop Thomas from hurting himself further.

"Hey, hey dude, calm down. This is my mom Thomas, it's alright. You're okay. You had a nightmare, that's all." Mark tried to calmly explain, knees hitting his bedroom floor when he sunk to them while reaching out to Thomas.

Thomas took Mark's hand, holding tightly to it. Mark smiled a bit before he looked over at his mom. She stood and smiled down at her son. "I'm going to go get a snack, would you like something to eat, Thomas?"

The nervous boy wiped at his face before looking over to Mark. Mark smiled up at his mom. "Yea, can we have those Pringles you bought the other day, Mom?"

Kerry nodded and asked, "Which ones, the pizza or the sour cream and onion ones?"

Mark looked over to Thomas, unsure of what flavor he would rather have. Thomas raised two fingers and met his friend's eyes. Mark nodded and spoke to his mom. "The sour cream and onion ones please."

Mark's mom stared at her son for a moment before nodding and leaving the room. Mark bit the inside of his cheek and looked back to Thomas. He was picking at his shorts, pulling off imaginary lint.

Mark moved to stand and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "You alright?"

Thomas didn't meet Mark's eyes. Mark sat down on the bed near Thomas' feet. He could hear his mom coming up the stairs so he kept quiet like his friend until his mom appeared in the doorway. She was carrying the canister of chips and two cans of Sprite.

He thanked her and she left them alone. Mark passed one of the sodas to Thomas and pried open the seal on the chips. He pulled out a little stack and passed it to Thomas.

The other boy pulled out some of the chips and began to munch on them. He stopped and held out the chip, shaking it at Mark and pointing to the doorway before pointing to Mark's carpet. He raised one eyebrow questioningly.

Mark thought about Thomas' actions, trying to have it make sense what he was trying to say to him. "Ummm, oh! Yea, that's weird. Maybe my mom doesn't enforce her old rule of no eating in the bedrooms anymore. I'm not sure of how things go around here anymore. I haven't lived with her since I was eleven."

Thomas nibbled on the chip he had before quirking his head to the side. Mark took a sip of his soda before explaining. "My parents' marriage was rocky and when they finally split I went to live with my dad. He wasn't home much though and my mom was worried I'd get depressed or into trouble. I kind of skipped a lot of school... And my dad being in the army kind of dragged me all around so I missed a lot because of that. But whatever, it just means I have more time being a reckless teenager then instead of being an... adult." He finished with a shudder.

Thomas chuckled at him and looked expectantly at him. He jumped when Mark jumped off the bed after he swore and began to scramble through his room, searching for something.

"Shit, shit, shit! Oh God, she's going to kill us!" Mark mumbled. Thomas sat up a little more, wincing and holding his side. Mark pulled out a piece of paper and a pen, thrusting it at Thomas.

"Write your number down, I got to call your mom and tell her where you are! She's going to think you got kidnapped again!" Mark bounced as the younger boy's eyes widened at the realization.

He quickly scribbled out the seven numbers and gave it to Mark. Mark ran from his room and bounded down the stairs, slipping and colliding again with the side table that held the house phone.

Mark's mother poked her head out from the kitchen, ready to yell at her son, just like this morning, when she saw how panicked he looked. She herself became anxious and placed a hand on his upper back, asking him what was wrong.

Mark answered as he tried to read Thomas' messy chicken scratch. "I've got to call Thomas' mom and let her know he's here. Last time he didn't go home after school his mom called the cops thinking he was kidnapped or something!"

Mark whispered, "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!" as he listened to the ringing. Mark looked up to the top of the stairs when an empty Pringles can hit him on the shoulder.

He looked up the stairs, seeing Thomas standing there shaking his head back and forth rapidly, his arms cross-crossing. "What?" He asked, still letting the phone continue to ring.

The younger boy kept shaking his head, pointing to his bare wrist. He moved his arm as if he were checking the time. He raised his pinky and thumb out in opposing directions and brought it to his ear, like a telephone. He shook his head and pointed down at Mark. He tapped his wrist and stomped his foot.

Mark watched as Thomas repeated himself and looked at Mark expectantly. He put the phone back, ending the phone call. Mark looked at the boy who looked exhausted. "What is it? The time? What time is it?"

Mark turned to look at his mother. She responded with "2:05." The blue eyed teen faced Thomas and climbed a few steps. "Is your mom not home yet?"

Thomas seemed to be relieved that Mark was able to understand him. He nodded and visibly slumped as he watched Mark ascend the stairs.

"Alright, so what time does your mom get home? I don't want her being worried about your whereabouts." Mark questioned, moving past him into his room to fall back onto his bed.

He lifted his head to look for a response from the boy. Thomas held up four fingers. Mark murmured an acknowledgement and let his head fall back down. He turned his head towards the wall, breathing deeply.

He could smell Thomas' sent, his shampoo mixed with laundry detergent, on his blankets. The blue eyed teen smiled and nosed the blankets, opening his eyes suddenly at a giggling noise coming from his friend.

"Shut up! I love my bed and missed it." Mark fibbed, blushing a bit and sitting up to turn off his television. He turned to Thomas who was fiddling with his fingers, still standing in the middle of the room.

"Well, we got like two hours. What do you want to do?" Mark asks, avoiding direct eye contact with the brown eyed teen.

Mark noticed him shrug his shoulders so another question was thrown at the teen, regardless of the fact that Mark had a pretty good idea that the answer would be a negative one.

"Do you want to talk about today?"

Mark looked at Thomas' face when the saw the boy shaking his head with worried eyes. He hugged himself slightly and looked over at Mark, a sad pouting frown evident on his flushing cheeks.

Mark tried another question. "Was your bad dream about what happened today?"

Thomas didn't move much, but Mark noticed his frown get bigger. He took the boy's lack of answer as an affirmative. "You know you can well, you can't exactly talk about it to me, but, um, fuck. You can um, I'm um." Mark stopped his rambling and looked into clear brown eyes. They were staring at him with a questioning glance.

"Dammit! Do you know what I'm trying to say?" Mark asked hopefully. He let out a big sigh when Thomas shook his head, very confused.

Mark's cheeks got darker. "I'm trying to say that I'm here for you, if you ever want to..." Mark paused. The word 'talk' just didn't seem to fit right with this conversation. Mark wasn't sure Thomas would ever talk again, to anyone.

"Communicate maybe? With me? Ah, fuck. That sounded way fucking girlier than I wanted it to." Mark finished, throwing his hands up before stuffing them in his pocket.

Thomas seemed to be sorting things through in his mind. He was looking at the floor, nodding his head back and forth, looking as though he was debating something. He stopped his movement and looked over at Mark. He flashed him a small smile and a thumbs up.

Mark returned the smile and picked up a football, tossing it back and forth between his hands as he tried to think of something to keep them occupied for the next couple hours.

Thomas raised one eyebrow and pointed to the ball. Mark looked down at the brown sports ball and laughed at it. "My dad's attempt to have a common interest with me. I like watching it better than I like playing it."

Thomas looked thoughtful and nodded, dropping his eyes to the floor. Mark began to hum as he walked in a circle around his younger friend. He stopped when he was directly behind him.

"Thomas." Mark said, wearing an impish grin. The boy turned and raised both eyebrows, waiting for Mark to continue.

"Have you ever wanted to dye your hair?" Mark asked, the grin turning into a wolfish smile. Thomas shrugged his shoulders, seeming interested in what Mark had to say.

"I was going to do it to piss my dad off, but then he shipped me off to here. I have a bunch of bleach. We could probably get both of our heads done." Mark offered.

Thomas quirked his head to the side. "It's meant for a girl so it has a lot of hair dye stuff. We could definitely get two short haired people done."

Thomas thought for a moment. He chewed on his bottom lip while Mark waited for his decision. The younger boy shrugged his shoulders and nodded at Mark.

Mark let out a loud and excited, "Yesssssssss!" before jumping up and down. He grasped his friend's hand and pulled Thomas across the hallway into the bathroom, all the while hopping like a kangaroo.

Mark opened up the bottom drawer to the left of the sink and directed Thomas to take off his shirt and sit on the toilet seat cover. The lack of sound and movement made Mark look over his shoulder to see what the quiet boy was up to.

Thomas was shifting on his feet, bottom lip shaking just ever so slightly. Mark lifted the box of hair dye out of the drawer and turned, pulling off his own shirt. "Hey, you don't have to. I just didn't want your shirt to get ruined. No matter how careful I try to be, I always seem to get bleach on my shirt, and thats when I do my ex's hair."

Thomas raised both eyebrows with a mocking smile. "Shut up. I was just really good at not missing any spots with her." Mark explained, rubbing at his bare chest. The older teen looked through the bathroom doorway and into his bedroom.

He threw a thumb over his shoulder and offered, "Hey, I can go grab an old tshirt of mine if that would make you feel better. I highly suggest not wearing that shirt while we do it though."

Thomas nodded and waited for his friend in the bathroom. Mark came back rather quickly, holding out a rather large white t-shirt with a Mickey Mouse face on it. Thomas smiled at it while he turned, placing it on the covered toilet and gently took his shirt off.

Thomas tried to move as quickly as his sore body would allow, keeping his line of eyesight out the small open window that looked down on the fenced in backyard. Mark did his best to get the hair bleach ready, mixing the powder and developer, swirling the blue paste around until it became unchunky. He peaked a couple of times though over his shoulder and frowned at the swirled design of greens and blues that stained his skin.

Mark saw Thomas beginning to turn and he quickly brought his attention back to the task at hand. Mark smiled over at his friend when the boy came closer, peering into the small plastic dish Mark was stirring.

His brown eyes inspected it with curiosity; eyebrows moving around as he sniffed and frowned. Mark chuckled. "I know, it starts to burn your nostrils after a while. Can you get that fan there?" Mark nodded towards a switch near the doorway. When Thomas turned it on, Mark thanked him put on plastic gloves and picked up the dish, telling Thomas to go and sit on the toilet again.

This time, the younger boy listened and watched while Mark swirled the blue goo. Mark was ready to start the bleaching process but stopped and gave fair warning to Thomas. "It might burn. And it will definitely burn your eyes because of the fumes but, just let me know if it gets too unbearable, we can wash it off." Mark added in, "But then we'd have to shave your head because your hair would be all fucked up." as an afterthought.

Thomas nodded and placed his hands on his knees, eyes flickering over to the worn button on Mark's pants as the older boy moved closer to him and raised his hands. Thomas felt Mark spreading the goo around on his head before putting down the plastic dish on the side of the tub and began to rub his head.

Mark watched as Thomas closed his eyes. He was nearly positive the only reason Thomas was leaning into his touches and practically purring was because contact felt good against the burning bleach. "Enjoying yourself?" Mark teased when Thomas' shoulders sagged as he relaxed.

Thomas pushed at Mark's chest, smiling right back at the older teen. They swapped places as Mark set the timer his mom dropped off in the bathroom. Mark placed the white timer on the window sill behind the toilet as Thomas slipped his hands into the gloves Mark had been using.

He wiggled his fingers while enlarging his eyes. "You make a good crazy person." Mark quipped. Thomas glared at Mark and smacked a big blob of hair dye onto his head. He finished putting all the blue goo onto Mark's head before spreading it around, mirroring the actions that Mark had done on his own head.

Mark looked up at Thomas' blue head. "Fuck, how did you not cry? I want to rip my hair off!" Thomas chuckled and shook his head, moving to look at the back of Mark's scalp, making sure not to miss any spots.

When the two had finished, they laughed at each other as they made funny faces in the mirror, waiting for the dye to do its job. Very soon, the timer went off and Mark faced Thomas, pulling at his shoulders so the younger boy would face him.

Thomas bit at his lip as Mark rubbed at the drying bleached goo. The older boy nodded, approvingly. "Alright, you're ready. Stick your head over the tub and close your eyes. Don't open them until I tell you to, okay?"

Thomas then nodded and looked at the movable shower head before getting down on his knees and sticking out his neck, clenching his brown eyes shut. Mark turned on the water, got it to a nice temperature and began to move the shower head over Thomas, running his fingers through the newly bleached hair.

After about five minutes, Mark let the shower head drop into the tub and placed a towel over Thomas' head. He rubbed at it gently, much like a parent would their child's head after bath time.

Mark told him to look in the mirror quickly before it was his turn to wash out the bleach. Thomas stared at his reflection, turning his head left to right as he inspected himself.

"Do you like it?" Mark asked. Thomas slowly nodded, still looking at himself. He turned towards his friend and raised his eyebrows, nodding at Mark. The blue eyed teen smiled and gave his friend two thumbs up. "You look good, Thomas. I like it a lot."

Thomas blushed and kneeled next to Mark who had his quickly closed his eyes and stretched his neck so his head was over the white bathtub. Thomas lifted the shower head and began to run the water over Mark's hair, rubbing gently to get the blue paste out.

Mark mumbled something that Thomas couldn't hear with the water beating against the tub. He pulled the shower head away from Mark, hoping he would repeat himself. When Mark didn't, and he kept his eyes shut, Thomas frowned. He nudged Mark's shoulder.

The boy turned his head, blue water dripping down his face as he blindly looked at Thomas. "Is it clear?" Mark asked, "When the water runs clear you can turn the water off."

Thomas huffed out some air and pushed Mark with one finger on his cheek, so he was looking down into the tub again. Thomas smiled to himself as he continued to rinse out the hair dye, running his fingers through the boy's now bleached hair.

Thomas gave himself an extra couple of moments to explore Mark's head after the water ran clear, running his eyes over every inch before he became nervous and turned the water off.

Thomas looked around for another towel. He didn't see any so he took the slightly damp towel he had used from around his shoulders and placed it over Mark's head. The two boys rose together, Mark rubbing his head with the towel. The two looked at their own hair before looking at the other's. Giving each other's thumbs up, they turned to go back into Mark's bedroom.

Mark checked the time and bit his lip as he told Thomas, "It's a little after four. Think your mom will be home by now? I really don't want to cops showing up at my house."

Thomas chuckled changed back into his old shirt e following Mark down the stairs, going slower than his friend. Mark looked around for the piece of paper that had held Thomas' phone number on it and came up empty handed.

"Will you dial it?" Mark asked. Thomas nodded and pressed the digits for his house. It rang three times before a woman answered.

"Hello?" She said.

Mark cleared his throat and said, "Hi, Mrs. DeLo-- um, Connie. It's Mark Hoppus, Thomas' friend? We met last night?"

Mark could hear the relief in Thomas' mother's voice as she spoke. "Oh, yes, hello there Mark. Is he, is Thomas with you?"

"Yes Ma'am, he is. Um, he came home with me earlier today, he wasn't um, feeling well." Mark explained, looking into the worried brown eyes in front of him.

"Is he okay, Mark? Shon got ahold of me and told me that someone, someone tried to..." She broke off, unable to finish her sentence.

"Yea, he's okay." Mark replied vaguely. He paused for a moment before asking, "I can bring him home soon. Would it, would it be okay if I stayed over at your house for a bit?"

Connie was unprepared for Mark's question, still not used to Thomas having a friend to invite over. Mark swallowed and continued to babble, chuckling nervously as he joked, "Um, well I'm sure he'd be asking you himself if he could talk."

Thomas punched Mark in the arm and shot daggers with his eyes as he heard Mark's comment. Connie was quiet for a moment before she began to laugh. Thomas stopped when he heard his mom laughing.

"Certainly you can come over Mark. Would you like to stay for dinner? I can order a pizza." Connie asked, still chuckling.

"Yea! That sounds good, we'll leave in like five minutes, I just need to tell my mom." Mark explained, sticking his tongue out at Thomas for hitting him.

Mark hung up the phone and laughed at Thomas pouting. "Serves you right. Your mom already loves me."

"Who loves you?" Mark's own mother questioned, walking through the hallway from the kitchen, stopping when she heard the tail end of the boys' conversation.

"His mom." Mark explains, laughing as Thomas turns bright red. Mark's mom continues on into the living room. She calls over her shoulder, "Don't worry, Thomas, that will all change once she gets to know him better."

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Ten minutes later, Mark is following Thomas into the younger boy's house. They walk into the kitchen and Thomas gets a can of Coke out of the fridge and passes it to Mark before getting one for himself.

Connie is sitting at the kitchen table flipping through the newspaper, clipping coupons. Mark says hello to her and Thomas waves. They start to leave the kitchen, when Thomas' mom looks up to say hello.

She gasps when she sees the two boys with their matching blonde hair. Her eyes flicker back and forth. She sighs and shakes her head, telling them that she'll order the pizza in a few minutes.

Mark thanks her and follows Thomas as they continue on their way. As the two boys climb the stairs to Thomas' room, Mark smiles to himself as he hears the older woman's words, "Two peas in a pod, those two are."


	5. Chapter 5

"Dude, why didn't you tell me you were into The Clash?" Mark asks as he walks into Thomas' bedroom, taking in the neatly made bed and the single poster on light blue colored walls. 

The older boy turns to see a response, but is faced with a very bored look with eyebrows raised. Mark chuckles to himself.

"Oh, yea. Ha, that makes sense. Sorry, I keep forgetting you don't talk much." Mark shakes his head and takes a bouncing seat on the other boy's bed. 

Thomas is scribbling something on a little notepad that had been sitting on his tidy desk. Mark waited for him to finish writing before reading aloud what had been scribbled down.

"Let's see... 'I don't talk at all though.' Hey, toe-may-toe, toe-mah-toe." He leans back on the bed to toe off his Vans and looks up expectantly at his new friend. Thomas glares a little bit before opening his can of soda and taking a sip before placing it on his bedside table and shooing Mark off his bed.

Thomas twists back to get his soda and stops, groaning painfully before grabbing at his side. Mark is instantly up, concern written all over his face as he tips his head, trying to get a better read on his friend's face.

"You alright? Here, lay down, do you need ice or something for your side? They must be sore." Thomas shakes his head as he huffs at Mark's ramblings. 

"Sorry, its tough for me to get used to all this. I didn't really have many friends at my old school so I'm overly excited to have one here which leads me to having verbal diarrhea. At least, that's what my mom called it. I don't think that is a technical term or diagnosis." Mark bites his lip sheepishly as he finished his babbling.

Thomas raises one eyebrow and looks at Mark with confusion as he nudges the older boy out of his way. Thomas turns and tries to lower himself onto his now wrinkled bedspread. Mark grabs his elbow and helps steady the other boy as he sits then leans back against his two stacked pillows. 

His eyes are closed as he breathes short shallow breaths, trying not to move his stomach and chest too much. Mark looks at the slightly pained expression on the younger boy's face and bites at the inside of his cheek as he looks down at the uncomfortable position Thomas is laying in.

Mark pulls at the boy's shoes to lift his legs up onto the bed, causing Thomas' deep brown eyes to jerk open, not ready for the sudden movement. Mark apologizes again and slips his hands into his pockets, unsure of what to do now. He waits, standing and watching Thomas as the other boy works his way through the pain. 

When it dulls, Thomas opens his eyes to see bright blue ones staring back at him. It makes him a little uncomfortable. He gnaws on his lip and snaps his fingers, pointing with his left hand for the notepad still on the desk. 

Mark retrieves it for the boy and waits as Thomas jots down a few short words. The moment the older boy reads them, he cries out in outrage, hand instinctively going up to cover and flatten down his short bleached hair. "My hair does NOT look stupid! Your's looks fuckin' ugly!"

Thomas chuckles as he pushes himself up into more of a sitting up position. Thomas reaches out and finagles the remote to his small television off the opposite edge of his bedside table and flicks it on.

Mark takes a seat backwards on the rolly chair that was pushed in, under Thomas' desk. Noting how there was not a single article of clothing draped upon it, very unlike his own desk chair, he let his eyes wander around the bedroom. 

Thomas' twin bed is pushed up into a corner of the room, opposite the door. A slider window sitting above the bed, near shoulder height when seated on the bed. A dark blue curtain, that matches the bedspread hangs from a perfectly straight curtain rod. 

A small tv sits on a stand against the wall that is facing Thomas' bed. A closed door, possibly a closet, is to the right of the tv stand. Mark turns his head and scans the room from the main doorway over and sees a tall dresser with knickknacks on it. Nothing seems of interest to Mark so he keeps looking around, stopping when an acoustic guitar leaning against a corner caught his eye.

"Dude!" Mark exclaimed, making Thomas jump at the sudden noise in the otherwise mildly quiet room. Mark pulls out an apologetic frown before continuing, "I didn't know you played guitar!"

Thomas looked at the dusty fixture in his room and shrugged, looking down at the cream colored carpet before returning his gaze to the tv, a small frown on his lips.

Mark took a moment more to watch the silent boy's reaction before standing up and making his way over to the instrument. Mark looked over his shoulder, checking to see if Thomas would make a move to stop him. Mark lifted up the guitar by the neck and blew on it, dust particles floating their way to the spotless carpet.

He turned and walked back to the chair he had been sitting in before, lifting the corner of his tshirt to wipe at the light wood colored body of the guitar. Thomas' eyes drifted over to see a sliver of Mark's stomach be revealed as he cleaned the instrument. 

Mark strummed a chord and cringed at the off key sound of it. "Damn, DeLonge, how long has it been since you played this thing?" 

Thomas scrunches his brow as he thinks before raising three fingers. 

"Years? You haven't played in three years? Wow. I don't think I'd be able to go that long without playing. Well, bass. I'm alright at guitar, but the bass is more my thing." Mark said thoughtfully, counting back in his head.

Three years would be around when Thomas' dad left the picture, according to the girl from his geometry class, however accurate that was.

Mark began to fiddle with the tuners, watching as Thomas' eyes followed his fingertips. The older boy was strumming a chord, tweaking a tuner when he stopped suddenly, asking Thomas, "Is it okay if I play around with it? I'm guessing theres a reason its been winning the largest dust collector award three years running now."

Thomas stared at Mark with wide eyes before slowly nodding, showing his approval. "So were you any good?" Mark asks with raised eyebrows.

The brown eyed boy looked at Mark as if to say 'Are you fucking kidding me?' with his expression. Mark finished tuning the guitar as best he could before holding it out to the other boy. "Put your money where your mouth is." 

Mark began cracking up, repeating "...where your mouth is...oh man, theres just too many jokes about you not talking!"

Thomas rolled his eyes, trying to keep the smile off his face as he reached out to grab the instrument out of Mark's grasp, pouting as he readied his fingers on the fretboard. 

Mark watched as Thomas stumbled over a few chords before beginning to play a familiar song. The younger boy seemed to get lost in the music as he moved right into another song that he used to play. 

A knock at the door had both boys jumping. Connie was standing in the doorway, eyes wide and a slightly opened mouth as she stared at her son fiddling around with the old guitar. 

"Thomas, I didn't know you still played dear, it sounds like you never stopped." She smiled nostalgically before shaking her head slightly and spoke to both boys. "I'm going to order pizza now, I know that Thomas just likes cheese but I wanted to check and see if you liked anything in particular before I called the place, Mark?"

Mark smiled back brightly and replied, "Well, I like a good ole cheese pizza too. Or sometimes I go for anchovies and mushrooms with no cheese and extra eggplant." 

Mark was whacked in the chest by Thomas' slender arm. When the older boy turned to see his attacker, he busted out laughing at the look of horror on the other boy's face. In between gasps of laughter he explained that he had been joking, which resulted in him being hit again in the chest and Connie scolding her son in front of Mark.

Mark brushed off the actions, clarifying that he did not in fact like anchovy, mushroom, cheeseless with extra eggplant pizza to his friend's mother. Connie turned to leave the two boys, letting them know that she would call them when the pizza arrived. The moment the door closed Mark was berated with multiple swats to his chest and arms.

Mark protected himself as he laughed at Thomas' weak attempts at hitting him, the silent boy's movements limited by his earlier injuries. "Settle down now, cowboy, settle down. No need to get your panties in a bunch, Thomas."

Mark ruffled Thomas' newly dyed hair as he saw the boy pouting at Mark's comments. The acoustic guitar lay silent at the Thomas' feet on the bed as the two boys fell into a comfortable silence, watching the tv. 

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

A loud knocking startled both boys. Half of a moment passed before it began again, making Thomas stand up from his reclined position on his bed. 

When the younger boy reached the door, he opened it, raising one annoyed eyebrow at the person responsible for the loud intrusion. 

"Mom says you and your friend should come down for dinner." Shon looked around Thomas' knobby shoulder to see what friend their mother was referring to. 

"Oh surprise, surprise. We just can't seem to get rid of you, huh." Shon leaned against the doorway as his younger brother rolled his eyes. 

Thomas turned and waved Mark over to follow him. Mark stood from the chair to head downstairs when he was stopped in the doorway. 

Mark panicked for a moment as a large hand grasped his shoulder, immobilizing him completely. Blue eyes widened as they watched Thomas' body descend the stairs, entirely unaware of his brother's actions. 

Shon cleared his throat while Mark prepared himself to be lectured on something or another that he had probably screwed up on in the slightly older boy's mind. 

"Thank you."

Mark quirked one eyebrow up, confusion showing on his face. That was not what he was expecting at all. 

His mouth flopped open and closed a few times before Shon spoke again. 

"I really mean it. Thomas gets picked on a lot and it makes me feel better that there's someone else watching out for him." He paused, running a hand through his gelled hair before continuing. 

"Him and I aren't really close anymore. I joined the Marines about ten months ago and he really hasn't acknowledged me since."

Mark looked at his feet before nervously meeting the intimidating blues staring him down. He swallowed, getting ready to answer when an impatient foot stomp distracted him. 

Seeing Thomas standing a couple feet away with furrowed eyebrows and a hand on his hip, caused Mark to break out in a grin. 

"Coming, Sir Thomas!" Mark announced before galloping past the boy and rapidly stomping down the stairs. 

Thomas turns his dark eyes on his brother, his mouth set into a small frown, suspicion growing. 

"I didn't do anything," Shon begins to defend himself, "you have a good friend, that's all."

Shon brushes past Thomas and follows Mark's footsteps. Thomas watches his retreating form and hesitates before climbing down the stairs as well. 

Thomas walks into the kitchen and sits down on the bench seat next to Mark. His mom is passing out paper plates and Shon is in the fridge, collecting a can of soda for each of them. 

The pizza box is in the middle of the table with the top folded back underneath itself. Thomas reaches for a slice of the steaming pizza when his hand gets smacked by his mother. 

"Mind your manners, Thomas. I raised you with better ones. Guests first." She admonishes, turning to grab a stack of napkins and place them on the table before sitting down in the chair between Mark and Shon. 

Thomas scowls and sits back, placing his hands in his lap while Mark giggles and takes his time selecting the perfect slice. The younger boy throws his knee to the side, bumping into Mark's legs. Mark's eyes light up as he selects a slice and puts it on his plate before opening the red can Shon placed in front of him. 

"So, Mark, this is your first weekend in town?" Connie tried to make small talk as her two sons fought over a particular slice of pizza.

"Ah, um sort of?" Mark mumbled, trying to finish the food in his mouth before continuing. "I was here last weekend, but I wouldn't count it really, I was too busy moving all my stuff in and getting settled in with my mom and sister to really count it as being here."

Mark watched the interaction between the two siblings. Shon pulled roughly on the slice of pizza that Thomas wanted, talking softly but firmly to his brother.

"I'll give you this slice if you say 'please'. C'mon fucker, I know you can do it, it's just one little word." Shon glared at the boy, their mother moving to the fridge to pour herself some iced tea, not hearing the conversation.

Mark took a quiet sip, eyes on Thomas for his reaction. He frowned when he saw the brown eyes become glossy and red, Thomas standing abruptly and hurrying out of the kitchen to the adjoined bathroom, wiping at his eyes furiously and slamming the door, the harsh bolt lock sounding through the quiet kitchen.

"Well, what in the world has gotten into that boy?" Connie murmured while returning to the table. Shon took a bite of pizza before raising his eyebrows innocently while shrugging his shoulders. 

The sibling caught Mark's unhappy gaze mid-bite. He grinned widely while he took a huge bite out of the slice of pizza, chewing smugly while keeping the other boy's gaze. 

Connie sat down and smiled at Mark. "I'm glad Thomas found you then. He could use an excuse to get out of this house once in a while." She chewed for a moment before adding in with a concerned look, "So long as you boys let me know what you are up to, alright? I'm saying this more to you, Mark, because well, Thomas won't for obvious reasons." 

Mark wiped at his mouth with a napkin. "Yeah, absolutely. I could, um, I could give you my house number. That way, you know, you could call my mom incase I forget to check in with you. I'm not the best with remembering that kind of stuff."

Connie looked delighted. She stood and walked to a drawer where she pulled out a pad of paper and a pen. On her way back to the table she knocked on the bathroom door. 

"Thomas Matthew, if you do not get your butt out of that bathroom within a reasonable amount of time you will not have any pizza to eat with the rate your brother and friend are going!"

She gently placed the notepad and pen next to Mark. He jotted down his number and name as well as his mom's name. The bathroom door creaked open as he slid the paper back to Connie.

"There you are. What was that all about?" Connie asked, oblivious to the red rimmed tinge to the boy's eyes. Thomas sat down silently and grabbed for a now cold piece of pizza, keeping his eyes cast down as he chewed.

Mark and Shon finished their food. Shon threw away his things as Mark stayed quiet while he waited for Thomas. Thomas avoided his friend's gaze the entire time. When he had finished he looked up to see the older boy watching intently.

When the blue eyed teen realized he had been caught watching the other, he stuck out his tongue in a good natured manner. He was rewarded with a soft laugh and an extended smile. Thomas stood with his hands in his pockets as he rocked on his heels, unsure of what to do next.

Mark could feel the younger's discomfort and jumped in to offer possible solutions. "You want to go hang out in your room some more? Or we can go somewhere to hang out, we don't have to stay here. Fuck sorry, I asked more than one question."

Mark sighed and scratched the back of his head. Thomas pointed to the floor before raising one eyebrow, hope evident on his face.

"You want to stay here?" Mark guessed, imitating Thomas' actions.

Thomas nodded and looked up shyly at his new friend. Mark simply smiled and asked, "Back up to your room?" Thomas smiled and nodded again, turning and heading for the stairs. 

Mark walked slowly up the stairs behind Thomas. He noticed Thomas only stepping up one stair at a time, always using his right foot first, avoiding putting any pressure or strain on his left side.

"You okay, Thomas?"

The boy turned swiftly, forgetting the strained muscles that were out of sight. The pained expression that fell over the boy's face was nothing to what Thomas was really feeling. He lost his footing in the spin and began to crumble.

"Oh, shit!" Mark exclaimed as he grasped Thomas' arms and pulled him close to him, steadying his footing on the stairs. The two boys fell against the railing. Mark grimaced as the weight pressed against him.

He tried to fix his arms to hold Thomas in areas that wouldn't cause the boy further pain. Thomas stayed still as he breathed through the throbbing, listening to Mark talk him through it.

"It's alright. You're okay, I've got you. Breathe. Take a deep breath for me, thats it..." Mark trailed off when Thomas tried to take a deep breath and he stopped suddenly, a high pitched groan slipping out of the boy's lips.

"Hey, hey, hey. Thomas, slow it down. You can do this, there ya go, take another one for me." Mark hesitates before gently pressing his forehead against the smaller boy's, waiting for him to catch his breath. 

Thomas finally takes one last shaky breath before looking up to Mark's concerned face. He nods his head once, letting the older boy know he is ready to finish the walk up the stairs. 

Mark turns as he hears Shon talking to his mom in the kitchen. Thomas seems to not hear the conversation going on below them, as he tries his best to keep climbing the stairs, loud huffs coming from him.

"Mom, I didn't do jack shit to him. He's just a hormonal brat that is taking his moodiness too far. He can talk, I know he can. He's probably been talking to that loser kid he dragged here..."

Mark frowns and glares down the staircase, hearing Shon's voice get louder, signaling his approach. "Fuck," he curses, "I hope you are okay with this."

The blue eyed teen takes his own deep breath before reaching down to place his left hand under both knees and lifting. Adjusting Thomas against his chest, Mark raced up the stairs, the lanky boy flopping about in his arms. 

Heavy pants escaped the older boy as he leaned against Thomas' now closed bedroom door, loud footsteps marching past them. Mark walked towards the bed and gently lowered him onto the soft blankets. 

"You alright?" He whispered, looking down upon his new silent friend. Mark watches as the other boy gives a shrug and a slow nod. He looks up at Mark with raised eyebrows, turning his head to the side and flicking his chin at the doorway, asking silently what the boy's actions were all about. 

Mark sucks in his bottom lip for a moment before beginning, not answering the questioning gaze on the younger boy's features. "You know, you don't have to ever talk, right? Not if you don't want to, that is. It's cool with me either way. Your expressions speak a lot louder than words anyways." 

Thomas stares up at the older boy. He blinks a few times before trying to give him a smile. The silent boy sits up slightly, leaning back on his elbows and shimmies up the bed so his head is propped up against the pillows. 

He pats the bed before moving slightly closer to the wall, making room for Mark. Mark smiles at Thomas before sitting and reclining next to him. 

"So what would you like to do for the rest of our happenin' Friday night?" Mark asks, wiggling his eyebrows. 

Thomas pouts for a moment before twisting his body, squinting his eyes in pain before taking a deep breath and pointing to the notepad on his bedside table.

Mark looks to his left and grabs the paper and pen. Handing it over to the boy, he props his head up in his hand and watches Thomas scribble. 

Mark reads the boy's words aloud, " 'I usually just read or watch tv in my room.' Oh, and you even drew a little sad face, oh that truly is sad. Isn't there a mall or a movie theater around here?" 

Thomas gnaws on his bottom lip as his eyes make figure eights on his comforter. He looks up when Mark continues speaking, quieter now, a near whisper.

"You probably don't go there very often, huh? I guess I really wouldn't want to go to the mall or the movies by myself either. Um, well. Uh, how about we just lay low tonight and then maybe next weekend we find something else to do."

Mark shifts next to the younger boy. Tapping his fingers on the bed, he paused, leaning backwards. He looked down at Thomas, watching as the boy kept his eyes lowered, a slight blush rising up over his cheeks. 

Mark raised his arms so that his hands met behind his head, slowly threading them together. He pursed his lips, thinking a moment more before taking a deep breath and sitting up. Thomas watched from the corner of his eyes as Mark sat up, scanning the room for something.

Mark stood from the bed, quickly bending and scooping up the T.V. remote. He sat back down, raised and crossed his ankles. Reclining again, Mark turned the television on and began to flip through channels. 

The older boy twirled the remote in his left hand, his right one propped up behind his head again. Feeling a poke in his right side, Mark looked over at Thomas. 

"Whats up, dude?" He asked.

Thomas lifted his warm brown eyes and raised a thumb, trying to signal that he was alright. He raised his eyebrows, doubt and nerves running throughout his features. 

"Yeah, we're cool, Thomas. No worries." Mark smiled down at the younger boy before looking back at the T.V.

Time passed quickly for the two new friends, hours slip by without notice. Mark jumps slightly when he feels something warm and heavy hit the side of his chest. 

Its Thomas, passed out cold next to him. He smiles down at him, feeling the hot gust of breath warming his side in a steady beat. Glancing at the nightstand next to him, the bright red numerals read '11:34'.

"Fuck, how did it get so late?" Mark whispers to himself as he slowly sits up. He slides out from underneath Thomas' fallen head and tiptoes from the room, hitting the lights and turning off the T.V. on his way out of the room.

The blue eyed boy makes his way down the short hall and creaky staircase, looking into the den to see Connie sitting on the couch, face aglow in blue light from the television. Connie looks up at the noise, noticing Mark she smiles at him. She lowers the volume before asking, "Whats up, dear?"

He swallows and runs his toe along an invisible line on the carpet before him. "Could I maybe use your phone to call my mom? I got to let her know where I am."

The older woman smiles at the thoughtful gesture and agrees, adding in that he can stay overnight if he would like. "Thomas hasn't had a friend sleep over in ages, it would be nice for him to have some company."

Mark grins back at her, "Yeah, that would be awesome. Thank you for the offer, you sure its ok? I don't want to overstay my welcome."

Connie shook her head and waved him off. "Believe me when I say this, Mark, it is no trouble at all. Would you like pancakes or eggs for breakfast tomorrow?"

Mark's eyes widened at the offer. "Pancakes. Definitely pancakes. Thank you!"

She nodded and went back to watching her show, only turning up the volume a notch or two to not disrupt Mark's phone call.

Mark turned and walked back to the front hallway. He picked up the cream colored phone and dialed his home number. He twirled the spiraled cord as he waited for his mother to answer.

After three rings, he heard his mom's warm voice answer the phone, a slight tinge of nerves behind it. 

"Hi, Mom, its me."

A sigh can be heard over the line. "Hello, love. Where are you, Mark? Its getting late."

Mark bit his lip. "I'm at Thomas' house. We were hanging out and watching T.V. and I must have fallen asleep, next thing I knew it was after 11:30. Sorry mom, I didn't mean to."

After Mark's mom brushes off his apology, simply glad that her son was safe, she waits for him to speak. An extended silence usually means trouble for the teen. 

"What... what did you do?" Kerry asks with hesitance after Mark made no move to fill in the silence. 

"Huh? Nothing, mom, I didn't do anything. Um, it's just late and I'm really wiped out." Mark pauses before quickly spitting out, "Thomas' mom said it was okay if I spent the night, can I?"

Kerry takes a moment to process what her son has just said. "You mean have a sleepover?"

Mark blushes a little at the juvenile name. "Mom. People don't call it a sleepover after 12 years old. Please. Get with it."

Mark's mom chuckles sleepily at her son and says, "Yes, Mark, you can spend the night. You and this Thomas kid are getting pretty close."

"Yea? So?" Mark replies petulantly. 

"Nothing, sweetheart, nothing. Have a goodnight. Will I see you this weekend at all?" Kerry chuckles, waiting for a response besides the huff she hears over the line. 

"Yes, you will see me eventually, mother. When I'm done feeling like I'm being judged."

"Alright, darling, you're getting quite grumpy. Go on back to sleep." Kerry wishes her son sweet dreams and hangs up after Mark says goodnight. 

Mark replaces the handset and quietly makes his way back up to Thomas' bedroom. Mark slowly enters the dark room, trying his best to avoid making any loud noises. 

Letting the door silently click into place, Mark froze as he heard a noise coming from behind him. He turned with curious eyes, straining in the darkness, trying to make out where the noise was originating.

He heard it again. 

A nearly silent snuffling noise, coming from Thomas' bed. He padded over and reached out for the lump under the dark blue blankets. He paused when the rounded lump shook slightly, shadows dancing over it from the streetlamp outside the window. 

The blue eyed teen quietly whispered his friend's name at the same moment his hand landed on the shaking lump. The lump startled, a squawk emitting from underneath it and limbs flailing about. 

Mark's eyes widened as he watched the form beneath the blankets panic. "Hey! Hey, Thomas, whoa! Calm down, dude, it's just me! It's just me. Thomas, what's going on?!" 

Mark scrambled to turn on the lamp on, hoping that once he pulled the blankets off of Thomas, he would see it was only him. No reason to fear. 

The small reading lamp flooded the dark room with light, and Mark worked quickly to extract Thomas from the smothering blankets. "Hey, Thomas, buddy, calm down. Wait, were you... were you crying? Why were you crying? Did you have a nightmare? It's alright dude, you're safe, he's not going to hurt you. Fuck, whats wrong?!"

Mark grabbed for Thomas' arms, pulling them down to his sides. He watched as Thomas tried to calm himself down, yanking his arms back so he could cover his slowly reddening face.

"Hey, Thomas. Talk to m- um. Never, never mind. Um, okay. You...did you have a bad dream?" Mark stumbled over his words, trying to figure out what had happened to the trembling boy before him. 

Thomas shook his head, staying hidden behind his fingers. Mark reaches out, hesitating for only a moment before trying to pull Thomas' fingers away from his face. 

Thomas scrunched his eyes closed as Mark pries away his nail bitten fingers. He moves them to cover his mouth, attempting to hide the way it's trembling. 

Mark frowns before sighing. He pulls the boy before him into a hug. "I wish I could help somehow. Will you write down why you're upset?"

Mark feels the younger boy nod against his shoulder. Mark pats Thomas on the back twice before sitting back on the bed and reaching for the notepad and pen from earlier in the night. 

He holds it out for Thomas, waiting patiently for the other boy to take the items out of his hands. When Thomas finally does, Mark asks, "So why are you upset?"

Thomas sniffles and keeps his eyes down as he writes a few short words. 'You were gone.'

Mark reads the chicken scratch and furrows his eyebrows. "What? I wasn't gone, I just had to call my mom to let her know I was staying over. Why...why would you get upset thinking I was gone?"

Thomas bites at his lip, his warm brown eyes never leaving the small notepad. 'I thought you were bailing. Sneaking out so you didn't have to deal with me. That you didn't want to be my friend but didn't want to say it to my face. I thought you hated me and didn't want to be my friend anymore. The lights and tv were out, I thought you left.'

Thomas stopped for a moment, before adding in, 'I don't have anyone else. You're my only friend, Mark.'

Mark read over Thomas' words, his frown growing with each word, something inside his chest twisting and clenching. "You thought I didn't want to be your friend? That's... that's so sad." Pausing for a moment, Mark added in, "And so very not true." 

Thomas sniffed and wiped at his nose. Mark reached out and rubbed at the younger boy's short bleached hair. "You can't get rid of me that easily, buddy." 

Thomas looked up to meet Mark's eyes momentarily. Mark leaned forwards and pulled the smaller boy into his arms, squeezing his shoulders before letting go. 

"Scoot over dude, I'm exhausted. Time for some sleepy sleeps." Mark tried shooing Thomas over, stopping when Thomas held up one finger.

Thomas stared at the blankets for a moment before opening his mouth. He closed it before trying to clear his throat, grimacing at the sound and feeling it made. 

Catching Mark's eyes he mouthed the words, 'Thank you.'

Mark stared for a few seconds before smiling down at Thomas. He stayed quiet as he motioned for the brown eyed boy to move over a tiny bit before sliding under the covers and turning off the lamp. 

Darkness cloaked the room. Mark lay there in the dark for a few minutes, listening to his friend's quiet breathing. Thomas shuffled around a bit, trying to give Mark enough room in the small twin bed. 

Mark turned his head, his eyes having adjusted to the darkness and smiled at the frustrated look cover Thomas' face. Chuckling he raised his right arm, propping it up behind his head again. 

He faced the ceiling and chuckled as he listened to Thomas struggle to get comfortable, feeling him wiggle every few moments. "I don't bite, ya know." He turned his head to look directly at Thomas. 

"Not hard, anyways." He grinned at Thomas before turning back to the ceiling. Another moment passed before he spoke to Thomas, keeping his eyes on the square of light, shining in from outside, onto the ceiling. 

"You don't need to be so worried about giving me room, I'm fine. You don't take up much space and I'm invading your bed. Here, take half the pillow at least... Unless, unless it bothers you that I'm this close?"

Mark turned to look at Thomas for a reaction or answer to his words. Thomas shook his head, moving it closer to the middle of his pillow. Mark smiled at him. When he received a smile in return, he shut his eyes. 

Mark opened them a moment later with a smirk playing on his lips, when he felt Thomas begin to shift, carefully trying to not pull the blankets off of Mark's body, as he rolled over, facing away from Mark. 

Ever so slowly, Thomas shimmied backwards and slightly downwards, only stopping when his back barely brushed against Mark's side. 

Mark looked down at him, smiling as Thomas curled into himself and sighed happily, snuggled down while bringing the covers up to just beneath his chin. 

He pinched his mouth together, trying to avoid the lip splitting grin that wanted to take over his face. His eyes shut quickly, being lulled to sleep by the rhythmic sound of Thomas breathing, and thoughts of the way the boy formed the words 'thank you'.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

The first thing Mark notices when he starts to surface from the warm fuzzy depths of sleep is the sunlight streaming down across his face and onto his eyelids. 

He's annoyed. He squints his eyes harder, willing a large dark storm cloud to pass by at that very moment. Realizing that is just not going to happen, he moves to turn and roll over, not ready to wake up and begin his day just yet.

That thought is quickly thrown out the window when he feels something tighten around his stomach, preventing Mark from evading the sunlight. Blue eyes flash open as he tries to stay calm attempting to piece together where he is, who he is with and how he got into some strange bedroom.

A snuffling noise draws his attention downwards, eyes falling on bright bleached hair prickling his chest through his tshirt as the head nuzzles him. All the puzzle pieces fall into place as he recognizes the soft snuffles come from Thomas. 

He still is slightly confused as to how he got quite so cozy with his new friend. Thomas makes a slight whimpering noise and pulls tighter around Mark's waist.

"Oh." Mark whispers. 

He bites at his lip as he tries to figure out how to get out of Thomas' octopus-like grip. He wiggles only slightly, testing how strong the other boy's grip is on him. 

"Fuck." He whispers under his breath, the tall boy's legs are hooked and intertwined with his own beneath the warm covers below. There is no way he can get out of this situation with his head held high so he decides to go for make-a-joke-out-of-it-to-disguise-his-own-discomfort strategy. 

He ponders which way would be more awkward for Thomas to wake up to, sweet nothings being whispered into his ear or having his back be gently rubbed. Mark feels as if Thomas is a heavy sleeper so he opts for a combination of the two.

"Thomas, oh Thomas... wake up my dear sweet love, good morning, time to get up snookums." 

Mark starts to reach for Thomas' back when he remembers the bandages that are still on the boy's back and most likely still quite sore. Mark moves his hand so he grazes over the arm that is wrapped around his own body.

Thomas stirs only slightly, taking a deep breath and sighing, pressing his nose up a little bit into Mark's neck. The older teen's motions only falter the tiniest bit, his head moving on its own accord to accommodate Thomas' movement. 

He freezes when he realizes what he has just done. Mark tries for a different tactic when he sees that his original plan was not going to work. "Hey, Thomas. Thomas, time to wake up dude, you're starting to cut off circulation in my lower half. Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey... wait, no. That is not true, I'm pretty sure I remember your mom saying she was going to make pancakes this morning. Yea, it was definitely pancakes." 

Thomas shifts and begins to pull himself away from Mark's body, arms stretching above his head as he tries to wake himself up. Mark waits and watches as he stretches once more before flinching, his hand flying to his side where he was bruised from yesterday's incident. 

Mark can feel Thomas beginning to become more aware of his surroundings and chuckles when Thomas freezes as he brushes against Mark's hip. Thomas, as quickly as he can, scrambles to the opposite side of the bed, flush against the wall. Thomas curls his lips into his mouth as he slowly looks over to meet Mark's eyes.

Sorry is written all over the boy's face as he only catches Mark's eyes for a moment, before dropping them again to look at the sheet beneath him. 

Mark tries to crack a joke. "Hey, that was all you dude. I sleep like a rock. You're the one that was flailing about like a fish last night, I'm in shock that I didn't wake up with a black eye this morning from your shenanigans."

Thomas' cheeks flush immediately, the younger boy tries to back away some more but gets startled when he realizes the wall is directly behind him. He moves downwards, curling into a ball, pulling the covers up and over his bleached hair. 

Mark stares at the lump. He bops his head for a moment before lifting the covers and shimmying towards the now still lump. Mark is about a hand a half away from Thomas under the covers. 

"Hi." He whispers. 

Thomas looks over at the blue eyed teen, barely able to make out his face under the blankets. He moves his arm so that his elbow is bent and his hand is up by his shoulder. Thomas, fingers wiggle as he waves to his new friend. 

The two breathe in silence for a moment, staring at each other until Mark clears his throat. "So, your mom said she'd make pancakes this morning. Think she's awake yet?" 

Thomas nodded slowly and jumped slightly when Mark pushed the blankets back with a loud squeal. Thomas watched with large eyes as Mark scrambled out of the bed and made his way to the door. 

He stopped and turned, noticing that Thomas was still on the bed, struggling to sit up. Mark waited as his younger friend got up and walked slowly over to the doorway, opening it and letting Mark lead the way down the stairs, following the delicious smell of pancakes. 

"Dude, do you think your mom would make a Mickey Mouse pancake for me?!" Mark questions, galloping down the stairs excitedly. 

Thomas can only roll his eyes as he makes his way down the stairs, one step at a time.


	6. Chapter Six Preview

Speaking Volumes Chapter Six

"Morning boys, how'd you sleep?" Connie greets the two boys as they shuffle into the kitchen, pausing only to focus on flipping a pancake on the griddle before her before continuing, directing her next question at Mark. 

"Mark, I hope my son was a polite host and offered his bed to you so you could have a restful sleep?" Connie meets Mark's eyes with a smile.

Mark coughs before nodding, "Um, I slept great actually. Only woke up that one time to call my mom. Usually I'm up every couple hours," Mark sits in one of the chairs, following Thomas' lead and then finishes his sentence. 

"I'm a bit of an insomniac." Mark shrugs when Thomas' mother frowns at him and shakes her head in an understanding way. 

The older boy notices his friend quirk his head to the side, confusion evident on his tired face. Mark explains without hesitation, feeling Connie's eyes on him as he talks to Thomas. 

"It means that basically I have trouble falling asleep and then staying asleep. I'm always running on virtually two or three hours of sleep, never really feel rested." Mark pops a couple of grapes out of the fruit bowl in front of him when he finishes speaking. 

Thomas forms an 'O' with his lips and nods. Both boys jump when Connie drops the pancake turner from her hands to the floor. Thomas stares at his mother with wide brown eyes as they both hear her quietly cursing to herself, rushing to wash the cooking utensil off and flip the pancake in the pan before it burns. 

Connie looks back over to the two teens seated at the kitchen table. She looks flustered and slightly in shock. She keeps glancing over at her son. Thomas is shifting in his seat uncomfortable, fully aware of his mother's brown eyes on him. 

He swallows thickly and looks over at her before he stands and scurries into the same bathroom he locked himself in last night. 

Mark watches him go, a frown slowly crawling up upon his face.

Connie tries to continue cooking breakfast, throwing out the now burnt pancake into the garbage. She scrapes at the bottom of the pan, washing it quickly with soap and water. She places it back onto the burner to let it heat up again before she sighs deeply and turns around to face Mark. 

Mark watches her now, his blue eyes are focused on her hands and she wrings them, fidgeting. 

"Mark, I know you only just became friends with my son, but you two seem awfully close and comfortable around each other. I saw, um, well, I saw him only give you a look and you knew what he was asking." Connie stops talking. She pushes her long brown hair out of her face and bites at her lips. Mark waits quietly, unsure if he is supposed to say something or wait for her to continue. 

Luckily, Mark is saved from his inner thoughts and uneasiness when Connie continues speaking, finally voicing the question that she had been beating around the bush for. 

"Mark, does Thomas talk with you? Because, well, I was walking by his door last night after dinner and I could hear you talking and then a pause and you would be laughing or talking again, and well it just seemed like you were having an actual conversation with him. So, does he talk with you?"

Mark has one eyebrow raised at the older woman. He looks back at the door. There is no sound coming from it, and Mark can tell that there has been enough time for even the slowest of people to use the bathroom. He hasn't heard the toilet flush or even the sink running. He knows Thomas must be able to hear his mother's words and are anxiously waiting to hear how Mark responds. 

"He doesn't really need to." Mark looks over towards the closed bathroom door when he hears a thump against it. The door stays closed and Mark smirks to himself as he turns back around. 

Connie is looking confused, her mouth is slightly open as she begins to form words but not actually saying anything. Mark runs his hands over his face. "He hasn't actually verbalized anything, but he can communicate with me. I can tell a lot of what's going on with him from his facial expressions. I don't know, I..." Mark pauses when he hears the toilet flush. 

"I thought he was going to last night. But I don't force him to... maybe he just needs to feel like he's not a complete loser or that no one is forcing him." Mark finishes up as Thomas exits the bathroom. He slides into his seat across from Mark. 

Mark knows that Thomas has heard at least part of what was being said in the kitchen. The younger teen is bright red and keeping his brown eyes downwards, drilling holes into the tables. 

Mark drums his fingertips on the wooden table. Thomas' mother places three pancakes in front of Mark and one Mickey Mouse one in front of Thomas. Mark notices and smiles at the deeper red Thomas turns. The teen turns to glare at his mother who has already turned back to the kitchen counter, cleaning the flour that spilt out of the bag. 

"M-I-C...K-E-Y...." Mark begins to sing, he's quiet, eyes focusing on his pancakes that he is drowning with maple syrup. Mark looks up with a smirk to see Thomas with a playful frown on his face. 

"M-O-U- hey!" Mark is cut off when a grape bounces off of his forehead and rolls to the floor. The blue eyed teen looked up with shock at Thomas, who was trying to look innocent, cheeks still pink and working extra hard to cut the ears off his Mickey pancake. 

Mark tries to make up an excuse when Connie questions his seemingly sudden outburst. 

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Mark flops onto Thomas' bed with a dramatic sigh. 

"Dude, I need to get a new pair of shorts. This one has seen better days."

Mark pokes at a hole dangerously close to his zipper. It makes a small ripping sound as he played with it. 

"Oops." Mark's finger went through the thin canvas fabric, creating a large "L" shape. 

Warm brown eyes dart down to the section of skin that is now showing through the hole. Mark notices and smirks, wiggling his finger at his new friend. 

Thomas turns a deep red and turns away, searching for something on his desk. He finds his wallet and pulls a beanie onto his head. Raising his eyebrows at the older boy, he takes a deep breath and throws his thumb at the door. 

Mark stands up and checks that his wallet is still in his shorts before nodding at Thomas. "Yea, dude, I'm ready. Let's go. I'll drive."

The two boys head down the stairs, Mark trailing behind Thomas, making sure to leave a couple steps in between so as to not make Thomas feel rushed. Thomas jumps the last two steps when Shon walks into the hallway, shouting as he calls for his mom.

"Hey, Ma? I'm gonna head over to-" Shon pauses when he sees he has startled his younger brother, making a stern look pass over his face when Thomas looks at him and cowers slightly. 

"Move, kid." Shon orders, scoffing when Thomas shuffles side to side, unsure as to which way would be best to get out of his brother's way. Shon watches over his shoulder as Mark places a hand on the younger boy's shoulder. 

The blue eyed teen is whispering into Thomas' ear. He throws a thumb over his shoulders. Shon turns with a frown, leaving the two boys as he goes in search of his mother. 

Mark smiles at Thomas as he sends a, "Hang on just a minute, I'm going to let your mom know where we're headed," before he's moving out of the hallway and into the kitchen. 

Mark stops abruptly after entering the kitchen when he hears the tail end of Shon's sentence. 

"...leaning all close and shit-"

Mark looks down to the floor to study his shoes. Shon and his mother both stop talking when Mark enters the room. 

Mark clears his throat and then directs his words to Connie. "Um, Thomas and I were going to head to the mall, hang out there for a little bit. Uh, if that's, um, alright with you. I need new shorts." He finishes by pointing at the hole near his zipper. 

Connie smiles up at him, "Of course dear. I have to go help a friend at her daughter's birthday party this afternoon. I may not be here when you boys return. Make sure Thomas has his house keys, alright?"

Mark nods his response and turns to meet back up with his friend, avoiding Shon's gaze the entire time. 

Thomas is fidgeting in the hallway, waiting for his friend to return. He knows that Mark went into the kitchen where his mother and brother are. He bites at his lips and stands on his tiptoes when he sees the blue eyed boy return. 

"Ready Spaghetti? Your mom is cool with it, said she might be out when we get back so to make sure you have your house keys." Mark relays the information and watches as Thomas nods and pats his right pocket. 

Mark followed Thomas out the door and to his car. Thomas walked up to it and got in to the passenger seat before holding one finger. Mark noticed the action as he sat down in the drivers seat. Blue eyes followed Thomas as he ran back into his house, returning a few moments later with something small in his hand.

Thomas held up the small notepad and pen, shrugging his shoulders before placing it on his lap, tugging his seatbelt into place. Mark nodded, turning his key in the ignition. "Yea, you're right, you never know."

As Mark threw his arm over the back of Thomas' seat to back out of the driveway, he saw a Thomas fighting to keep his smile at bay. Mark smiled to him as he finished backing down the driveway. 

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Mark slurped his soda from his straw, swinging his bag with his other hand. He peeked at Thomas, noting that he was busy looking into a window they were passing by. 

"Hey, Thomas, where's the bathrooms?" Mark interrupted the younger boy's train of thought. 

He watched the younger boy bite his lip before pointing to a doorway they were passing by. Blue eyes followed the direction Thomas was pointing. 

"Awesome. I'm gonna run and go take a piss, I'll be right back. You going to hang out here?" Mark asked, already moving away from the younger boy and closer to the bathrooms. 

Thomas lifted his hand to his mouth before lowering his hand again, a faint blush dusting his cheeks as he nodded. 

Mark saluted the other boy and ran off towards the bathroom. Thomas watched the tall figure make his way down the hallway before disappearing out of sight. 

Thomas sighed and looked around, noting a stone fountain a few steps away from where he was standing. He scurried around the pedestrian traffic to get closer to the water. The brown eyed boy glanced into the clear water for a moment before taking a seat on the stone bench that wrapped around the fountain. 

Thomas people watched for a few moments before his attention was caught by two male teens rough housing as they walked by the glass front shops. The closer the two boys got to the center of the mall, and in turn, closer to Thomas, the louder they became.

Thomas tried to make himself invisible, shrinking down and keeping his head down, the sheer volume of the two making him nervous. He stiffened as he recognized the voices of a the two teens, a couple neighborhood boys that Thomas had problems with in the past. 

"Hey, Josh, isn't that kid there the stupid one that lives in the brown house a couple down from you?" Thomas imagined the grin that grew on Josh's face as the first boy that spoke, Greg, hit Josh on the arm to get his attention. 

"Fuck, yeah it is. Saw the cops out at his house the other night. Bet it was because he was caught sucking someone's dick in public. Let's go say hi." Josh chuckled as the two boys took a seat on either side of Thomas. 

"Hey there dimwit. How's our old buddy, Tomas?" Greg asked, purposefully pronouncing Thomas' name incorrectly. 

Thomas did not make eye contact with the two, hoping that they would lose interest and leave him to wait for Mark. 

Greg grabbed for the bag that Thomas had dropped by his feet when he sat at the fountain, items that Mark had insisted he get. Mark had bought him a few band shirts and a small fingerboard from a novelty shop. 

Thomas had tried to stop Mark from buying them and spending money on him but Mark had ignored the younger boy's insistent yanks on his shirt sleeve as he handed money to the cashier. 

Thomas grabbed for the black and red plastic shopping bag, trying to get it back from Greg but was stopped by Josh's arm coming up and wrapping around his neck. He huffed out air in surprise, his brown eyes widening at the unwanted contact. 

"Hey now, if you want me to let go all you have to do is say so." Josh pulled tighter. He waited half a moment before adding in, "I don't hear you protesting though." Josh smiled with insincere green eyes. 

Thomas swallowed and clenched his eyes, his face heating with embarrassment. He struggled for a moment, pulling against Josh's arm, growing nervous as the seconds ticked by with the unwanted arm touching him. 

Opening his eyes, Thomas' brown ones searched the surrounding area for Mark to magically reappear and save him. He saw Greg dumping his things on the ground instead. 

A few folks sat at bistro tables, snacking on soft pretzels and coffees from a nearby vendor. Thomas looked at them, his eyes wide and becoming moist looking. Blank ones stared back at him. One girl he recognized from school turned in her seat to get a better view as to what was happening. 

Greg had returned his attention to Thomas, the newly bought items left forgotten on the floor of the mall. He plastered on a fake pout and sat down again next to Thomas. 

"Aw, look Josh, poor baby is going to cry." He wiped at his eyes, mocking Thomas. 

Josh turned to look at the boy stuck in his grasp. "Aw, da poor baybee..." He drawled out the sounds of his words, making his speech more infantile. Josh rocked back and forth making Thomas helplessly swing right along with the other teen. 

"You know," Greg chuckled, resting one hand under his chin, elbow on his knee, "he looks a little dirty. Maybe you should help give him a bath." 

Thomas shook his head frantically, a few hot tears slipping down his face and he attempted to one last time free himself. 

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Mark strolled out of the bathrooms, swinging his shopping bag by his waist. When he reached the end of the hallway he took a look around the area, trying to reorient himself. 

He saw the group of small tables he had left Thomas by and noticed a few people all staring in the same direction. Something dropped in his chest, his gut telling him something was wrong. Blue eyes followed their line of eyesight. 

Mark barely had time to register Thomas' clothing on the figure that was being flipped backwards into the large fountain, water being sprayed everywhere. 

"What the fuck?" Mark cried out in disbelief, running quickly to the aid of his friend.


End file.
